<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Fate/Simulacrum by Angryaria</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23122609">Fate/Simulacrum</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angryaria/pseuds/Angryaria'>Angryaria</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fate/stay night &amp; Related Fandoms</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 06:15:08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>175</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>125,915</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23122609</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angryaria/pseuds/Angryaria</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>You're a normal college student, or so you thought. So why is it you're suddenly getting caught up in all this "magic" stuff? You didn't ask for this. But, well, as long as you're stuck in it, might as well do your best and try to win.</p>
<p>An original Holy Grail War begins now!</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This story was presented as a CYOA on a private forum in 2009. It was written by a friend named Doink who disappeared off the internet several years ago. I recently found a copy of the story, and wanted to preserve it in his honor. He did a good job telling an original story within the confines of the Nasuverse circa 2009. Obviously a lot has changed since then, but I think the story still holds up.</p>
<p>Because this was intended to be a CYOA, I will maintain the original choices in the text. However, as the story was completed over a decade ago, the choices were already made! Think of this like buying a CYOA Book at a used book store and someone already marked all the answers.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>------------------------------------<br/>
<em>Prologue</em><br/>
------------------------------------</p>
<p>...It’s the same dream.</p>
<p>I’ve been having it ever since I was a little kid-- at once point after my father disappeared it seemed to come every night. But that was a long time ago. Occasionally, though, I still dream it...</p>
<p>I’m standing in a library, overshadowed by what seem to be impossibly massive shelves of thick tomes. The light which filters down from up above is muted and gold, and the air within is musty with the smell of old leather, paper, parchment, ink-- ancient smells, as if the library and its contents have existed for far longer than any man can recount.</p>
<p>At the end of the row, the room suddenly opens up, as if at a crossroads; and the middle, outlined in a column of light, there is a round table, upon rests seven cards. I approach them, and I see--</p>
<p>
  <em>On the first card: A knight in full armor, a magnificent red plume erupting from the back of his helmet. He holds a beautiful sword upright before him. His title, written in ornate script at the bottom of the card, is <strong>Saber</strong>. The card <strong>Saber</strong> gives off an aura of ancient strength and massive endurance, but also cunning. Of the cards on the table, it is the most straightforward.</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>On the second card: A warrior standing atop a chariot, the reins snapping in his gauntleted fists. His title is <strong>Rider</strong>. The card <strong>Rider</strong> seems noble and courageous, ready to ride-- and lead-- against whatever foes stand against it, making them cower in its wake.</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>On the third card: A venerable sage, robed and with a flowing beard, his face obscured by his hood. He holds an ancient tome in his right hand. His title is <strong>Caster</strong>. The card <strong>Caster</strong> is strange-- it is not an ordinary magus, who is strong against his art but weak against the weapons of the world. Its methods are weird and his ways weirder, but has always worked to its advantage.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>On the fourth card: A woman, dressed in light armor, aiming an enormous bow. Her hand is perfectly steady, and she stares ahead as if studying an unseen enemy. Her title is <strong>Archer</strong>. The card <strong>Archer</strong> is someone who is used to being in command, a master tactician. Although it seems somehow weaker overall than the other three, it's potential versatility and skill more than outweigh its difference in power.</em>
</p>
<p><em>On the fifth card...</em> but the fifth card is reversed, showing only its ornate backing.</p>
<p>
  <em>On the sixth card: A nobleman clad in light armor, a long lance held at the ready behind his back--</em>
</p>
<p>--but before my eyes I see it flip itself over, again revealing nothing but its backing. And on the final seventh card...</p>
<p>
  <em>On the seventh card, reversed: A pale man with a mask like a grinning skull, covered in red, <strong>a jagged hole pierced through the middle of his chest--</strong></em>
</p>
<p>I look away quickly, the very sight of this card somehow causing me pain. I am unable to look back to read its title.</p>
<p>The remaining cards still seem to beckon to me, asking me to examine them closely. I reach out, tentatively, and pick up--</p>
<p>A)The Swordsman, Saber<br/>
B)The Charioteer, Rider<br/>
C)The Sage, Caster<br/>
D)The Bowman, Archer</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>C)Caster</strong>
</p>
<p>Tentatively, I reach out and take hold of the card labeled <strong>Caster</strong>. As I hold it up to study it more closely, it seems to glow from within with a soft light.</p>
<p>But as I do so, I notice a feeling of warm wetness around my feet. Puzzled, I look down, only to see that the floor beneath me is gradually filling with a viscous black liquid, which is slowly pooling around me, slowly rising higher and higher, and as I try to move it seems to suck me down, to root me in place, and I can feel it working its way up my legs oh god the worms are in my legs they’re tearing my flesh off help me I’m drowning in it its going into my lungs I can’t breath I can’t see I--</p>
<p>--And around there’s where I usually wake up.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>-------------------------------<br/>Day 1 - 11/04<br/>-------------------------------</p>
<p>“...As you can see, the theory of the monomyth can explain these similarities between the most common myths, epics, and legends; as well as the reoccurring symbolism which accompany them. If you would take a look in your textbook on page six-hundred and thirty seven you will see a chart comparing the famous “Le Morte d’Arthur” with the monomyth. One very important image to remember in this story in particular is that of the Grail, which...”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Professor Charles Campbell is considered a bit of an eccentric around campus. A small elderly man, he seemed to possess inhuman energy whenever he started discussing his subject-- in this case, Comparative Mythology (101).</p>
<p>A class which I, unfortunately, am currently stuck in.</p>
<p>“As to exactly why such “monomythic images” appear so frequently, there are many theories, from Freud's Oedipal concepts to Jung’s Collective Unconsciousness.</p>
<p>“There are even,” he says, with what you assume was an amused expression, “those who would go further than Jung and claim that all such images come from a singular Origin, in which all concepts reside. But I digress, for this is a class of anthropology, not occultism.”</p>
<p>I hear a few half-hearted laughs from the class as the Professor looks at his watch.</p>
<p>“And we’ll have to stop with that. I expect you all to have read the next three chapters in your textbook by--”</p>
<p>But by the time he finishes that sentence I’m already out the door.</p>
<p>...It’s tiresome, really. I’m a sophomore history major here at St. Martin’s University, and yet I’m stuck taking Comparative Mythology 101. That’s barely even a history class. It’s cross-marked in English and Anthropology after all. Besides, it’s not my style. Give me some concrete facts over that mythological bullshit any day.</p>
<p>Still, I’m finally done for the day. Plus it’s Friday, which means I’ve got a nice weekend ahead of me. But just as I start thinking I’m free--</p>
<p>“William! William Cooper!”</p>
<p>I hear the voice of my professor calling from the classroom door I just so hurriedly walked through.</p>
<p>“Do you have a moment? I need to talk to you about something!”</p>
<p>No! I was so close! I guess I should--</p>
<p>A) Keep walking and pretend I didn’t hear him. I can deal with the repercussions later.<br/>B) Go back and see what he wants-- he is a professor. Besides, I guess it <em>could</em> be something interesting.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>B) Go back and see what he wants</strong>
</p><p>I sigh. No matter how much I want to go home, I can’t just ignore a professor. So I turn around and trudge back through the doorway as the last of the other students leave, leaving me alone in the enormous lecture hall with Professor Campbell.</p><p>As I said earlier, Campbell is an odd man, short and wirey with a shock of rapidly greying hair hanging messily from his head. I said he was elderly, but in all honestly I can’t really tell how old he is-- he could be an old-looking 40 or a young-looking 70 for all I know.</p><p>“Ah, William, excellent. Would you please follow me to my office? I need to discuss something with you.”</p><p>“Sure, professor,” I answer, trying to sound nonchalant. What in the world does he want with me? I think as I follow him through the winding corridors of the massive History Building.</p><p>I still wonder, sometimes, exactly how I managed to get into this school. I certainly would never have been able to afford it; a prestigious old enormous private college in a small city in the middle of nowhere. The invitation came out of nowhere, though, when I was about to graduate from high school; admission and a full scholarship to St. Martin’s University. Apparently, the Dean of the college was a friend of my Dad’s back when he was a Professor in England, and as his friend he wanted to do something for me since I had lost him at such an early age.</p><p>Not that I was particularly bent out of shape about that. I mean, he disappeared when I was seven. I don’t have many particular memories of the man, only that he was away a lot and was distant when he was home.</p><p> </p><p>Finally we stop in front of an old door in a back hallway and enter into a small, well lit office, with a simple desk at one end, lined with bookshelves. In front of the desk are two chairs-- and in one is seated a young man, who gets up as we enter the room.</p><p>“William, this is my new Graduate Assistant, Ben Sabbah. He’s on an exchange program from... where was it again?”</p><p>“Qatar, but my mother was American” the young man says with a smile.</p><p>“Right, Qatar,” Campbell says, as Ben walks over and sticks out his hand. I take it and give him a handshake, still slightly bewildered. Ben is about my height, which is relatively average, with a lean build and well-tanned skin. His hair is blonde-- must be from his mother-- and his features are implaceably foreign-- Arabic? Indian? Eastern to be sure, but with hints of numerous other lineages. I guess if his mother is American there’s likely to be a whole big mix in there.</p><p>“Anyways, Ben was just finishing up some research in here, right?”</p><p>“Yes, sir, I’ll be out of your way in a few minutes,” Ben said, his slight smile never leaving his face, as he turns back to the bookshelves and begins hunting for something.</p><p>The professor motions me to take a seat across from him at his desk and I do so.</p><p>“Now, William,” Professor Campbell begins, “I want to talk to you about your Father.”</p><p>“...My father?”</p><p>This isn’t what I expected.</p><p>“Yes, your father.” He is silent for a moment before he continues. “I knew your father once, for a short time, when we were both working at different universities in London. He was a fascinating man, you know? I don’t suppose you know much about his studies?”</p><p>I shake my head. My mother never really talked about my father’s work, only that he was a well-known professor in his field.</p><p>“What a shame. You would have been proud of him. Your father, you see, was one of the world’s most renowned scholars of ancient occultism.</p><p>...What? My father studied what? “...Occultism?” I say, hoping I didn’t sound as disbelieving as I felt.</p><p>“Yes. He was a-- no, the expert of his time. It is such a tragedy that he vanished so suddenly, not only for the research he could have done but the research he took with him when he vanished. You see, your father was in the middle of certain fascinating research when he was gone-- in fact, it was on the very subject I was lecturing on today, the monomyth, which gave me this idea when I saw your name on my roll.”</p><p>“The monomyth.” I’m hopelessly confused, yet intrigued.</p><p>“Yes, the monomyth. Your father was convinced that many historical notions of occultism, mystery cults, and supposed magical theory were all connected somehow to the idea of the monomyth. Granted it was a bit of an ambitious theory, since he was connecting a theory which was created to study literature and applying it to human behavior, but the early draft he showed me was very intriguing... unfortunately he took it with him when he vanished, as no copies of the paper have ever been found.”</p><p>He leans forward in his chair, his eyes shining, his hands clasped in front of him.</p><p>“Its truly a tragedy, but perhaps some of his work still remains. I know I may be presumptuous in asking something like this, and I apologize, but I must know-- do you or your mother have any of your father’s papers? Any at all? If you could give them to me-- or to any reputable scholar, not to monopolize your fathers legacy, of course, although I am very well qualified to work with them-- they could give a wealth of knowledge back to the academic community. Of course any publications of them would be under his name. What do you say?”</p><p>He looks at me eagerly across his desk.</p><p>I’m stunned. Papers? I don’t think we have any of his papers, I certainly don’t. My mother might, though-- and even if she doesn’t, maybe if I keep him talking I can find out more about my father. He talks like he knew him well, but I’ve never heard him mentioned in relation to my father before.</p><p>I should--</p><p>A) Tell the truth, that I don’t know of any papers. Better to not lie and possibly get hurt by it later.<br/>
B) Lie, but say my mother has them and I don’t know what they contain, just to be safe. See if I can keep him talking about my father.<br/>
C) Lie, but say I have the papers with me. Try to strike some kind of bargain with him for them.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>C) Lie, but say I have the papers with me.</strong>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>...This is too weird. This guy I’ve barely met before starts saying all this stuff about my father, and then starts asking for his stuff? Something is fishy here. Maybe I can bait him into giving something away...</p>
<p>“...Well it just so happens”, I hear myself say, “that I have something you might be interested in right here.” And with that I reach into my bag and pull out an old, beat-up leather-bound notebook, and hold it up into the light.</p>
<p>--It’s mine, of course; its an old spare notebook of mine that I’ve had for years and keep around for jotting down random notes. But he doesn’t know that, plus it’s beat up enough that it looks older. Maybe he’ll buy it. Maybe. I hope.</p>
<p>“Is that--” Professor Campbell is in shock “--his experimental journal?”</p>
<p>Jackpot.</p>
<p>“I don’t know, maybe it is, maybe it isn’t. Why should it matter to me?” I’m flying by the seat of my pants now, but the look on his face lets me know that I’m headed in the right direction.</p>
<p>The Professor studies me for a moment-- Crap, maybe I was to over the top-- no, suddenly he breaks into a nervous chuckle.</p>
<p>“Ahh, Will, you’ve got a little of your father in you. Always driving a hard bargain. Alright, seeing as you saw through me-- as I should have expected, of course, but I had to test you-- what is it that you’re interested in?”</p>
<p>“I want information.”</p>
<p>“May I, perhaps, see the journal--”</p>
<p>“Maybe if you answer my questions.”</p>
<p>“Alright, I’ll answer your questions. But only one. Then I must see it!” He looks almost frantic. This is getting weirder and weirder. Still, he said he’ll answer a question. I should ask him:</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A) Why are you so interested in my father’s journal?<br/>B) You said “experiments” just now. What kind of experiments was an occult scholar doing?<br/>C) What happened to my father? How did he disappear?<br/>D) Other (specify)</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>C) What happened to my father.</p><p> </p><p>It’s obvious, really what I need to ask.</p><p>“What happened to my father? Why did he disappear.”</p><p>Campbell sighs. “You cut straight to the point, Will.”</p><p>He leans back in his chair and rubs his eyes. “The truth is, Will, we don’t know. Maybe the Association’s Executors finally got a hold of him, although I doubt that he would have been unprepared for that. I heard rumors at one point that the Burial Agency was after him, but I doubt that; he was far too subtle to catch their eyes. The Church could have been involved though, no doubt about it. As you probably can tell,” and he gestures at the notebook in my hands, “that some of his experiments were... unpleasant. Necessary, but unpleasant. And of course the Association was against him. He knew far more about magecraft than any non-magus should have.”</p><p>I just nod. The Association? Burial Agency? Magecraft? This just gets weirder and weirder.</p><p>“I’m sorry I couldn’t better answer your question. Was it enough to garner me... a peek?” He glanced longingly at the book in my hands.</p><p>“...No, not yet. You haven’t told me anything,” I say, trying to sound like I already knew about what he told me.</p><p>“Of course, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, but if you could give me more time--”</p><p>“Alright. I’ll give you two days. If you can give me a better answer then, I’ll bring you back this-- as well as some other papers I have.” Throwing a little extra bait can’t hurt, but I have to get out of here before my bluff gets any larger.</p><p>Campbell looks at me for a moment, then nods.</p><p>“Very well, William. I think I know where to find the information you seek.” He breaks into a smile and extends a hand. “I look forward to future cooperation.”</p><p>I shake his hand. It’s limp and cold. And, as quickly as I can, I exit.</p><p> </p><p>------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>I walk back toward my apartment. It’s a long ways off campus, in one of the denser areas of the city-- although my tuition is paid for, my living expenses are not, so I’m forced to live in the cheapest sort of housing I can afford. Still, it’s not that bad of a place place, just a bit far away from, well, just about everything. At least the rent’s not bad.</p><p>It’s already late, just after midnight. The other thing I hate about that Mythology class is that it’s in the late afternoon, so in between that, that bizarre conversation with Professor Campbell, and a few hours spent in the dining hall eating and mulling over it in my head without coming to any conclusions, I set off in the dark back to my place, sticking to the back alleyways and parks to avoid friday-night partygoers.</p><p>But still, I mull over the conversation in my head. If Professor Campbell is telling the truth, and I don’t see why he would lie about something like this, my Dad was into some pretty weird stuff. Was he a cultist? Some kind of weird new-age priest? I can’t think of any other reason he would be involved in “magecraft,” whatever the hell that is.</p><p> </p><p>I’m so lost in thought that I fail to notice the noises coming from the end of the alleyway until I’m right on top of them. Suddenly I’m almost knocked off my feet by what seems to be a massive earthquake. I stumble forward out of the alley--</p><p>--and onto a battlefield.</p><p>At the exit of the alleyway, there’s a small open square, boxed in by the backs of the warehouses surrounding it, a throwback to an older style of city planning. Its normally filled with dumpsters and trash, and no-one really goes back here except me, since it takes about ten minutes longer to walk around them, and my apartment is out in the middle of nowhere.</p><p>But tonight the pavement is cracked and broken, and bits of trash and dumpster lie strewn about. Dust hangs in the still night air, shining in the light of the full moon overhead.</p><p>And in the center, highlighted in its soft light, stand two figures, a few yards apart. I know as soon as I look at them that they are the cause of the destruction: I can feel the enmity between them, crackling in the air before them-- an almost palpable feeling of prospective death suffused the air. I catch my breath, trying not to make a sound lest I disturb the two.</p><p>On one side stands a tall man of noble bearing, with short cut hair, mustache, and goatee, dressed in odd clothing-- as far as I can tell, it resembles a cavalier’s outfit-- and brandishing what appears to be a cavalry sword in front of him. Another sword is sheathed at his belt, and a wry smile is on his face, as if daring his opponent to be the first to move. He almost appears ridiculous-- but there is something in his eyes that strikes fear into me.</p><p>Across from him stands a giant. He is massive, probably over 7 feet tall, his skin black as pumice. In his hands he holds an absolutely massive hammer, its head a rectangle of black metal which seems to absorb all light around it. His chest is bare, and he is barefoot, wearing nothing but what appears, to my incredulous eyes, to be a pair of torn, faded jeans. He stands completely immobile, as if he was carved there from a solid piece of stone.</p><p>--And without warning they are gone. Faster than I can respond, there is a flash, then a roar, and I am thrown backwards back into the alleyway by its force.</p><p>“Aha! An excellent show! This is getting interesting!”</p><p>I hear a voice from the square, and see the two facing off once again, like before.</p><p>--And there is a new crater in the center of the square.</p><p>...Those two are monsters. Those movements aren’t human. I should--</p><p> </p><p>A) Get the hell out of there. This is too dangerous.<br/>
B) See if I can sneak a closer look at the two. I have a feeling that with all the weird stuff happening to me today, this has to have something to do with it.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>B) Try to sneak closer</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>I’m scared. I’m scared shitless. These guys aren’t human. I don’t know what they are.</p><p>--And I realize, then, that I have to find out.</p><p>As carefully as I can I make my way back over to the entrance to the square and crouch by the corner, keeping as much of my body in shadow as I can...</p><p>In the square, the two clash again and again. Even with a concerted effort I can barely follow their movements-- one instant they are in one place, the next, their weapons are colliding in mid-air, the nobleman’s saber somehow parrying the massive hammer ever time. The pace of their combat becomes faster and faster, each time their blows are traded an instant quicker, their pauses an instant shorter. Sparks fly as metal hits metal, leaving piles of trash smoldering in their wake.</p><p>And, as their speed increases, I notice that the nobleman seems to be winning. As they stop, preparing for another round, I see a wealth of hairline slashes covering the beast’s arms. The nobleman’s grin only increases, and there is a dangerous fire in his eyes.</p><p>“Come now, beast, can’t you speak? I guess not. Have at you!”</p><p>They fly again. The beast is falling back. He seems immovable, but he can’t take this rapidly increasing onslaught forever.</p><p>Then, suddenly, the nobleman stops, facing his opponent, and bows.</p><p>“It has been fun, beast, but I am afraid this battle must end here. I have other things to do, you know.”</p><p>He raises a hand into the air, and, in a clear voice, he yells</p><p> </p><p>--“Babieca, come to me!”</p><p> </p><p>Behind him... I can’t believe my eyes, but a tear seems to open in the world behind him and out strides a massive white horse. I can tell by looking that it is no ordinary animal, for its hooves seem to crackle with energy whenever they touch the pavement.</p><p>“Congratulations, beast. You get to see one of my tricks tonight. Unfortunately, it will be the last you see. Goodbye, beast.”</p><p>In one smooth motion he mounts his steed and flies forwards, his blade outstretched, his form and that of the horses merging into a single white streak that exists only for an instant, but that instant is long enough to impact the waiting hammer of the massive man, with force so great that he is lifted off the ground and flies through the air backwards--</p><p>--Straight towards where I’m hiding!</p><p> </p><p>I react without thinking and dive out into the square, just as the beast slams into the corner where I crouched a second ago. The impact of his body causes the outer wall to crumble under his weight. I hit the ground hard, instinctively trying to tuck-and-roll but failing miserably and instead landing face first on the dusty pavement a short ways into the square.</p><p>“...What’s this?”</p><p>I hear the nobleman’s voice, and as I raise my head I see him, mounted on his arcane steed, staring down at me in disbelief.</p><p> </p><p>...</p><p>...Shit.</p><p> </p><p>There is a crumbling sound from the building, and we both look over just in time to see the massive man leap onto a nearby rooftop and flee. The nobleman watches him, as if aching to follow.</p><p>I stand, shakily, and attempt to creep away, but--</p><p>“You damned fool.”</p><p>I turn, slowly, to see the nobleman striding towards me, his horse gone, his eyes locked on mine. I can feel the anger building up in him. I try to run, but my legs refuse to move-- I am transfixed by the murderous intent emanating from those eyes.</p><p>“I had him. I had that beast right where I wanted him. And you just had to show up uninvited.”</p><p>Suddenly I find myself hurtling through the air, and I slam against the far wall of the alleyway. I can feel something crack in my shoulder. The man is standing beside me.</p><p>“And I hate. Uninvited. Guests.”</p><p>He stabs downwards. The blade pierces my lower ribcage into my stomach. A jolt of white-hot pain shoots its way down my nerves.</p><p>“You know,” the man says. “Normally I have a distaste for this sort of thing. I mean, I can’t let you live if you’ve seen me like this, but I would do it clean and quick, you know?”</p><p>He snarls. “But you, no, you lost me my prey!” he yells, giving his sword a sudden twist.</p><p>--Pain. My body is burning, a fire spreading slowly from the place where his sword has pierced my side. I feel myself fly through the air again, but this time I don’t feel any impact, my nerves already taxed to their limit with the fire which is burning in my side.</p><p>“But no, I had to let him go because of you. ‘Eliminate all witnesses’ my master said. Even if it costs me victory. Can you believe that?”</p><p>He strides slowly towards me. I can feel my consciousness began to slip away. My vision is fading. Some part of me that can still think is telling me that I must have lost a lot of blood already-- I can feel it pooling around me in a viscous puddle.</p><p> </p><p>He’s going to kill me. As soon as he finishes walking over here he’s going to kill me.</p><p>I’m going to die</p><p>here in this alleyway</p><p> </p><p>I slump backwards against the wall</p><p>--I’m going to die</p><p> </p><p>leaving a bloodstained streak</p><p> </p><p>but as I look up</p><p>--I’m going to die</p><p> </p><p>my vision</p><p>fading</p><p>--I don’t want to die</p><p>I can see it</p><p> </p><p>in front of me</p><p>just like in my dream</p><p>the card is</p><p> </p><p>hanging there</p><p>glowing with a</p><p>white light</p><p>If I could just</p><p>reach</p><p>a little</p><p>farther</p><p>I</p><p>could</p><p>touch</p><p>it</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>And the world goes white.</p><p> </p><p>-----------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>In front of me stands-- no, floats-- a slender figure, clad in a robe of silver laced with black, an intricate jeweled clasp at her throat, her figure illuminated by the moonlight which shines brightly down behind her.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>...Its funny, this whole situation seemed so bad a moment ago, but for some reason all my thoughts of pain and fear disappeared as soon as she appeared. And then she speaks, in a soft yet steadfast voice, from underneath her shadowed hood.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“I ask of you,” she says, and her voice seems to wash away whatever fears or doubts remained in me.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>--“Are you my master?”</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>I try to answer, to say anything, but I cannot. The figure turns, suddenly, as if sensing the danger which now seems to me like a distant memory. She gestures towards the astounded figure who once seemed so menacing, and as eldritch fire burns around us for an instant, we are somewhere else--</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>...I hear running water. I am lying on something soft, and I can feel warm sunlight bathing my face and body. There is no longer any pain. It is peaceful-- such a peace as I have not felt in a long time. It feels as if opening my eyes would somehow break this spell of calm, so I remain, motionless, and can feel myself slipping back into soft, dreamless sleep...</em>
</p><p> </p><p>----------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>I awake with a start. I am laying on my side on something cold, yet soft. Upon inspection, the cold turns out to be concrete, and the soft turns out to be grey cloth. The concrete of a rooftop, in fact, as I am currently leaning up against the wall of an access door on some desolate rooftop, and the cloth of a cloak, which is currently draped over me. Now how did I get up here...</p><p>“Good, you’ve awoken.”</p><p>A female voice startles me out of my musings. I look across the roof to see the girl walk across the roof towards me.</p><p>...She’s beautiful. Standing on the ground, she’s about my height, minus an inch or so; her hair is long and raven-black, spilling down the back of her head down just past her shoulders; and her eyes are a riveting silver which perfectly matches the cloak which she seems to have loaned me as I slept. She is wearing a short back dress laced with silver and gold thread in intricate knotwork patterns, and long black gloves and stockings-- all of which flow with an odd grace that seems slightly out of sync with the lighting around them, as if they were made of shadow.</p><p>“Who... are you?” I manage to get out,</p><p>She smiles, and, to my surprise, drops into a sort of mock-curtsy.</p><p>“Servant Caster, at your service-- Master.”</p><p>“Master?”</p><p>--Is this some kind of dream? Because the only place where beautiful girls ever call me Master is in my dreams... really, its the only place they call me period.</p><p>A puzzled expression. “Yes, Master. I was summoned, and you possess the command spell, so I am your Servant. Although a more formal introduction would be nice, as it would be easier to call you by name than by title.”</p><p>“...Command spell?”</p><p>The girl who calls herself Caster looks at me with a worried expression on her face.</p><p>“Are you feeling alright? Perhaps the wound did more damage than I thought...”</p><p>“Nonono, I feel just fine.” Actually, this is true-- I feel like I just had the best sleep of my life up here on this roof. And absolutely no sign of</p><p>the enormous gash in my side</p><p>Panicing I glance down at my side. My shirt is ripped and bloody, but underneath is only smooth, unbroken skin.</p><p>“Of course it is fully healed; do you doubt my abilities that much, Master?”</p><p>“N-no, of course not. It looks like you did just fine...” I think I’m finally reaching the point where I’ll accept just about anything. Still, I poke at it a bit, just to make sure. “What is going on here--”</p><p>“a-HEM”</p><p>I look over at ‘Caster’, who gives me a dour look.</p><p>“May I make a suggestion, Master?”</p><p>“Umm.... sure, go ahead.”</p><p>“Well then, Master, as your Servant I would suggest we find a better place to discuss these matters than this open rooftop. The Servants we escaped from are probably still out there, and for some reason that I cannot explain I cannot currently enter spirit form, so I am extremely conspicuous.”</p><p>“Thats true...” I’m completely bewildered by what she’s talking about, but I do want to get off of this rooftop-- and away from whatever those things were that were fighting in the square. “We could go back to my apartment, I guess.”</p><p>“Very well then. Please lead the way.”</p><p> </p><p>---------------------------------</p><p>The walk back to my apartment was long enough to make me forget a little of my tension and unease about the whole crazy situation I’ve found myself in, which made me conscious of just how much I stood out walking along these busy streets at night (Caster insisted on taking well lit, busy streets to avoid further confrontations) with a beautiful woman dressed in some kind of cosplay robe. Luckily we didn’t run into anyone I know. I mean, I don’t want anyone thinking I’m some kind of creepy perv or something. Although I suppose walking around with a beautiful woman is pretty good no matter what she’s wearing--</p><p>My libido is cut short by our arrival at my humble abode. I fumble a moment with my keys and we enter.</p><p>...It’s not much to look at, really. Two rooms-- a combination living room/dining room/kitchen with a bedroom and bathroom off one side. It’s not much, but it’s... well, its cheap. I suddenly, for some reason, felt very embarrassed to be showing this to Caster, but she seemed unfazed, walking over to one of my two couches and sitting down, motioning for me to do the same. I take a seat across from her.</p><p>“Now that we’re at a more suitable location, I think I deserve some kind of explanation for this situation.”</p><p>“What? Explanation for what?”</p><p>“For my summoning! Why did you feel the need to wait to summon me until the middle of combat! And how did you do that, anyways, without a circle or focus! What kind of magus are you, anyways?”</p><p>Caster looks at me expectantly for an answer--</p><p> </p><p>A) I guess I should apologize, although I’m not sure what I’m apologizing for. Maybe if I explain my situation she’ll be able to tell me what’s going on.<br/>B) What do I have to apologize for? I’ll just tell her what happened, and see what she can tell me.<br/>C) Apologize? She’s the one who has explaining to do! What’s going on here, anyways? Who is she, and why is she calling me Master!</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>The author used this art for Caster: https://imgur.com/a/fobyqDq</p><p>However, he didn't provide any attribution for the artist. It was the Wild West of 2009, after all. If, by chance, anyone knows, I'd love to credit them.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>B) I’ll just tell her what happened, and see what she can tell me.</strong>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Whoawhoawhoa. Slow down a second.”</p>
<p>I take a deep breath.</p>
<p>“I honestly have no idea what you’re talking about. Before this afternoon, I had no idea about any of this stuff.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>I go on to recount to her all the things which happened today, as well as about my dream. When I finish, Caster sits in silence for a few minutes, deep in thought.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Finally, she speaks. “...you really know nothing about this? About the War for the Holy Grail?”</p>
<p>“The war for the what now? Holy grail? Like from <em>Le Mort d’Aurthur?”</em></p>
<p>“...not exactly. Let me explain.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>The Holy Grail War. A magical competition like no other.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>With the help of the Grail seven Masters summon seven Servants to fight to determine who is the most worthy to hold the manifestation of the Cup of Life, which grants one wish to its bearer no matter how great.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Seven Masters, ruthless Magi of great power, willing to sacrifice anything to reach their wish.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Seven Servants, legends called from the Seat of Heroes, with weapons and magic far mightier than any which exists in our age, who seek the grail themselves.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Only a pair together can reach the Grail, and only a singe pair can receive it-- the rest must be eliminated, one way or another.</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“...So you’re one of these Servants?”</p>
<p>“Yes, Master. I am the servant Caster, as I said before. Your command spell proves it.”</p>
<p>“You mentioned a command spell before, what is that?”</p>
<p>She points at my right hand. Puzzled, I hold it up to my face.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>--On the back of my hand, extending all the way down to my wrist, is an intricately woven pattern which appears to have been drawn on my skin in red ink.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That seal is the physical sign of our contract; it is what gives you, a human magus, power over a heroic spirit such as myself. Ordinarily, I will follow your orders out of my duty as your Servant-- although I hope you will listen to my advice-- but you can force me to obey any order 3 times using that seal.”</p>
<p>I put my hand down.</p>
<p>--This is a lot to accept all of a sudden, but given all I’ve experienced today, I’ve stopped trying to make sense of it all. Easier to accept it then question it. Besides, if this Caster was out to get me she could have killed me a long time ago.</p>
<p>...And even if I didn’t believe her story, the fact that her name matches the card from my dream is too much to ignore...</p>
<p>“...So,” I say, finally, “if I summoned you, then that makes me a participant in this war?”</p>
<p>“That is correct. You are one of the seven Masters.”</p>
<p>“But you said the Master were Magi. I’m not a Magus. I don’t have any ‘magic circuits’ or whatever it is you were talking about.”</p>
<p>“And this is what I do not understand. You must be a Magus.” She sighs, and gestures at her self.</p>
<p>“As a Heroic Spirit, I am a spectral being-- even though the Grail grants the power to summon me, it is up to my Master to provide the Mana to keep me in this world and provide me with power to fight.” She leans down and peers at me. “Right now, although you seem to not know it, you are providing me with a steady stream of mana.”</p>
<p>“... I am?”</p>
<p>“Yes, you are. And what’s more, its a lot of mana: had I not just heard your story, I would have guessed you were a very powerful Magus.”</p>
<p>She drops back to her seat with another sigh.</p>
<p>“It’s impossible,” she says. “How can you be a magus and not know? Even people born with natural magic circuits must learn to use them before they can focus this much mana.” She leans back on the couch, deep in thought.</p>
<p>...Fuck me. It says something about my age, I suppose, that even in the midst of all the crazy shit thats been going on the thing I am most conscious of right now is the this girl sitting across from me who says she’s my “Servant” is quite possibly one of the most beautiful girls I’ve ever seen-- definitely the most beautiful I’ve ever had an extended conversation with, at least. Even if it is about crazy magical shit. But the way she’s leaning back there, the way her cloak is falling around her shoulders is just right so that I can see the pale skin of her legs between her stockings and her dress--</p>
<p>“Master?”</p>
<p>“Huh?” Crap, I really hope she didn’t notice that. I hit myself mentally. Bad libido.</p>
<p>“Regardless of your condition, I recommend that for now we begin planning our next move. We cannot afford to be without a plan; it is likely that all the other servants have already been summoned, and they will be moving as well.”</p>
<p>“Moving?”</p>
<p>“This is a war, Master. If we want any chance at victory, or even survival, we have to have a plan.”</p>
<p>She waits for my response--</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A) Hold on a second, I never agreed to fight.<br/>B) Alright, I suppose there’s no backing out of this now. We should try to plan something out.<br/>C) Before I commit to anything, I want to know more about what’s going on. How do I have this magical power all of a sudden?</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Starting in this chapter, there's a Status Screen. I'm not sure how to present it. In the original telling, some of the status updates were in plain text, and sometimes they were (poorly) edited Status Screens from the FSN VN. I'd like to exclude those and stick to text, but I might need to come up with some standardized formatting for them. Let me know if you have a suggestion to make it legible. Just like in the original game, the idea is to be able to quickly refer to it when you need to! So I'll stick it in the End Notes of each chapter.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>B) We should try to plan something out.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>This is crazy. One day I’m just a normal, boring history major at a little college in a city in the middle of nowhere, the next I’m a Master in some crazy magical war.</p><p>But there’s no escaping it. I’m already in this deep: from here on out there’s no turning back.</p><p>“...You’re right. We need to plan.”</p><p>Caster nods, satisfied.</p><p>“Then let us discuss our current situation and capabilities. Although my summoning was unconventional, I seem to have been summoned in full possession of my abilities. With the amount of mana you are currently providing me, I should be able to act at full power right away.”</p><p>I nod, and she continues.</p><p>“As the Servant Caster, my specialty is of course magical attack. My personal specialty is illusion magic, but my illusions are of a different sort than most Magi are capable of... it will be easier to show you, I suppose, than to explain. Look here.”</p><p>Caster holds out her hand, and in it a grey fire appears, which swirls and coalesces into a little grey bird. It hops off of her hand and flies over to me, landing on my shoulder. I can feel its weight for a second before it evaporates back into grey mist.</p><p>“My illusions exist physically rather than simply mentally-- they are palpable to any without significant magical resistance, and even then they are still difficult to simply dismiss. Only an extremely powerful servant would be able to ignore them. They are almost at the level of projection magic.</p><p>“Besides illusions, I have an Archmagus’ level in all standard spell types, as well as several types of infernal, elemental, and fey contracts; and I can speak in the Divine Language.”</p><p>I nod as she finishes. I have no idea what half of those things mean, but they sound ridiculously impressive.</p><p>“Now, it is probably safe to assume that all of the servants have probably been summoned already, meaning that very soon this War will begin in earnest. What you were caught in earlier was likely a minor skirmish compared to what’s to come.”</p><p>--That was minor? Jesus, what have I gotten myself into?</p><p>“Its probably safe to assume that the servants you saw yesterday were Rider and Berserker.”</p><p>“Rider and Berserker? Do all of you have weird names like that?”</p><p>“They are not our names, they are our class titles. When the seven servants are summoned by the Grail, they are placed into one of 7 classes by the one that is closest to their capabilities. Since I was considered a great witch during my time, I became a Caster.”</p><p>“...So then there must be a Saber and an Archer as well as a Rider and Caster? Like in my dream?”</p><p>“Yes. The cards in your dream were correct. The two that were overturned would have been Berserker and Lancer...”</p><p>She trails off. “And the last card?” I ask, curious. “The reversed one?”</p><p>“...That’s what puzzles me. The last card is Assassin, normally the most predictable servant. Your description worries me though... it is unimportant now.”</p><p>“Do you remember anything in particular about either of the two servants? Something that would give you a clue as to their identities? If we knew who they were in life, we would learn much about their capabilities.”</p><p>... I think back for a moment. Come on, History major, you were the one who told your mother that it would be worth something someday! This is where your knowledge should actually help!</p><p> </p><p>--The monster was anyones guess... the jeans were certainly odd though. Maybe he was a recent legend?</p><p>But the nobleman, Rider... he named something, didn’t he? When he summoned his horse, he yelled out a name...</p><p> </p><p>“One second.” I jump up from the couch and run over to a nearby bookshelf, upon which are piles numerous thick textbooks. I grab one from the middle and flip through it, hoping that my hunch is correct.</p><p> </p><p>--Yep, there it is: Babieca, the legendary steed of Rodrigo Diaz de Vivar, more commonly known as El Cid Campeador.</p><p> </p><p>I relay this information to Caster, and she nods happily. “Excellent,” she says. “Now we have a better idea of what else he can likely do.”</p><p>I nod. “He had two swords on him... the one he was using, the smaller one, was likely Colada, which means that “other trick” he mentioned must be Tizona...”</p><p>“...his other Noble Phantasm.”</p><p>“You said that before-- those are special weapons servants have, correct?”</p><p>“Yes. Any famous weapon or magical object that a servant had in life that has taken on special significance after their time. It also influences their class-- if Babieca was a Noble Phantasm, then that would explain how he became a Rider instead of a Saber.”</p><p>“...It says here that the sword was famous for ‘striking fear into his enemies.’”</p><p>“Likely a psychological effect then. That’s good, as a Caster I am the among the servants with the highest resistance to such effects.”</p><p>--Speaking of which...</p><p>I close the book and return to my seat on the couch across from Caster, who appears deep in thought.</p><p>“So who are you then?”</p><p>“Hmm?” She looks up, startled.</p><p>“You said all the servants are legendary heroes and such, right?”</p><p>Surprisingly, Caster looks... confused. She thinks for a moment before speaking.</p><p>“I think,” she says, “that it would be best if I did not tell you my true identity yet.”</p><p>“What? Why?”</p><p>“You underestimate the lengths that Masters are willing to go to win this war. There is magic-- very simple magic, mind you-- to delve into the minds of others against their will, or force others to reveal their secrets. And even with my aid you cannot put forth your own defenses against such attacks. What if you fell prey to one? I have already told you most of my capabilities; but if I told you my name or my Noble Phantasm they would know exactly what my weaknesses are.”</p><p>I nod hesitantly. I don’t like it, but she makes a good point. “Ok... I guess Caster will have to do for the time being.”</p><p>She sighs with relief. “Thank you for understanding, Master.”</p><p>I shake my head. “But that won’t do.”</p><p>“Hm?”</p><p>“The whole Master thing. Don’t keep calling me that. Its just... odd.”</p><p>She smiles. “Then what would you prefer I call you?”</p><p>“My name’s Will. Will Cooper.”</p><p>“Well then, Will, I suggest you retire for the night. I may have healed your wound, but even with your absurd mana supply the healing process still cost some of your bodies strength, not to mention the exertion of summoning me, on top of all the rest of the energy you expended today.”</p><p>I look over at the clock on my bookshelf. 4:57. Damn, I must have been out for awhile back there. This whole night felt like an eternity and a moment all at once.</p><p>Still, having sat down for awhile has made me realize just how tired I am, now that the adrenaline has worn off. I nod.</p><p>“I will set up the necessary magical defenses and then retire myself; no servants will likely be out again until late tomorrow. In the morning we can discuss our later plans.”</p><p>“Wait, I can’t make you sleep out here-- you can sleep in my room if you want.”</p><p>She chuckles. “I thank you for your courtesy, but although I may look human, I am a creature of spirit. An hours rest or so on this couch will be enough to restore any mana that I’ve lost today. Do not worry about me.”</p><p>“Alright... then goodnight, Caster.”</p><p>“Good-night, Will.”</p><p>I walk over into my room and flop down on top of my bed.</p><p>...I had planned to try and think some things over now that I’m alone, but as soon as my head hits the pillow I find myself falling into the sleep of a dead man.</p><p>-------------------------------<br/>Day 2 - 11/5<br/>-------------------------------</p><p>-- I wake up to the light of midday streaming in through my window. A glance at my bedside clock tells me that its after noon already. I groan as I roll over. What a crazy-ass dream that was--</p><p>Until my eyes fall on the red design burned into the back of my hand.</p><p>--Ok, not a dream then. Shit.</p><p>I groggily get to my feet. I must have really been tired last night, because I fell asleep fully clothed. Gotta do something about that.</p><p> </p><p>--------------------------------</p><p>A quick shower and a change of clothes later and I walk into the living room. Caster is laying out on the couch, her cloak draped over her like a blanket. As I enter the room her eyes snap open and she sits up.</p><p>“Good afternoon, Will. I trust you slept well?”</p><p>“Umm... yea, fine.” I scratch my head. I’m not used to dealing with people right after waking up, so in order to avoid potential awkwardness I quickly head over to the kitchen area and grab myself a bowl of cereal. “You want anything to eat?”</p><p>“Just something to drink would be fine-- I don’t really need to eat as long as I have an adaquate mana supply”</p><p>Right, sure. I pour her a glass of milk along with my cereal and bring it over to her, then sit on the couch opposite and start chowing down. God, I didn’t realize how much all this excitement takes out of you, as I eat about 3 bowls before I’m finally full.</p><p>When I’m finished, I turn to Caster, who was watching me eat with a bemused expression on her face.</p><p>“So, what do we need to do now?”</p><p>“Well,” Caster says, “I have been considering the situation for the past few hours, and I believe I’ve come to a few conclusions.</p><p>“Firstly, although you know my capabilities, I know very little of yours. I know that you are not a magus, at least not consciously, but you do need some way to defend yourself. Even a little will help-- although there’s no way you could defend against a servant, you should at least be able to defend against his master. Do you have any skills that could be useful for self defense?”</p><p>I shake my head. Thinking about it, I’ve never been in a fight, never taken a martial art, never fired a gun-- I’ve had a pretty sheltered life up until this point.</p><p>She sighs. “Then we’ll have to start from scratch. Do you have any ideas?”</p><p> </p><p>A) Is there anything you could teach me? Sword-fighting or archery or ancient medieval kung-fu or something?<br/>B) I could go buy a gun; I don’t need any training to fire one and you could put some kind of enchantment on it.<br/>C) If I have all this extra mana, couldn’t you teach me some magic?<br/>D) Other (specify)</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p><strong>Servant Caster</strong><br/>Master- William Cooper<br/>True Name-<br/>Sex- Female<br/>Alignment- Neutral</p><p>Strength- C<br/>Endurance- D<br/>Agility- A<br/>Mana- A+<br/>Luck- C<br/>Noble Phantasm: B</p><p>Class Abilities:<br/>Territory Creation: EX. Casters can create a magical workspace for themselves.<br/>Magical Item Creation: C</p><p>Skills:<br/>High Speed Divine Language</p><p>Fey’s illusion: Caster is a master of illusion, having made contracts with the fey themselves. Her illusions are palpable to any who do not have sufficient magical resistance, and cannot be simply banished by willpower.</p><p>Infernal and Elemental Contracts: Having made contracts with powerful demons and elementals in the past, Caster can call upon their powers for aid in emergencies.</p><p>Noble Phantasm(s):<br/>Currently Unknown</p><p> </p><p><strong>Servant Rider</strong><br/>Master-<br/>True Name- El Cid Campeador<br/>Sex- Male<br/>Alignment- Neutral Good</p><p>Strength- B-<br/>Endurance- B<br/>Agility- A<br/>Mana- D<br/>Luck- B<br/>Noble Phantasm: B</p><p>Class Abilities:<br/>Unknown</p><p>Skills:<br/>Unknown</p><p>Noble Phantasms:</p><p>Tizona- A holy sword. It’s attributes are currently unknown, although it is said to cause great fear in its enemies.</p><p>Colada- A holy sword. Although a noble phantasm, its actual powers are quite weak, with no special abilities</p><p>Babieca- El Cid’s massive white steed. While riding it, he can charge his opponents with the force of a hurricane.</p><p> </p><p><strong>Servant Berserker</strong><br/>Master-<br/>True Name-<br/>Sex- Male<br/>Alignment- Chaotic Neutral</p><p>Strength- A<br/>Endurance- A+<br/>Agility- D<br/>Magic- D<br/>Luck- D<br/>Noble Phantasm: B</p><p>Class Abilities-<br/>Unknown</p><p>Skills:<br/>Unknown</p><p>Noble Phantasms:<br/>Unknown</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>D) Both B and C<br/>B) I could go buy a gun; I don’t need any training to fire one and you could put some kind of enchantment on it.<br/>C) If I have all this extra mana, couldn’t you teach me some magic?</strong>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I suppose the easiest thing would be for me to just go buy a gun, since that doesn’t require a lot of training to use in self-defense.”</p>
<p>Caster thinks about this a moment. “That is actually not a bad idea,” she says, after a while. “Firearms are uncommon amongst magi, so perhaps it would at least catch them off guard. I could enchant them so that they could ignore most magical defenses as well.”</p>
<p>“Alright, then we’ll go do that today; although it will be difficult to get one quickly, what with all the background checks you have to go through and all... ” Not to mention how expensive they are. I have a feeling that this war is soon going to start affecting my already light wallet.</p>
<p>“Do not worry about that. Do you have any other suggestions?”</p>
<p>“Well, yea, actually. You said that I have a huge mana supply, right?” She nods. “Well then, could you teach me some easy magic? There has to be some kind of simple spell I could learn in a day that would be useful to protect myself.”</p>
<p>“...Possibly,” Caster replies. “There are many simple spells, but most magi go through years of mental preparation as a child before ever even attempting them. I do not know if you would be ready. Perhaps I should analyze your circuits first, to see what your capabilities are... Is there some sort of secluded place we could go, where we would have a lot of room? It would be necessary if I am to teach you anything.”</p>
<p>“Of course. This may be a densely-packed little city, but as soon as it ends it’s just forest and mountains for miles.”</p>
<p>“Good, then we will have to travel out there. We have plenty of time before nightfall; which would you rather do first?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A) Go buy a gun<br/>B) Go into the woods and learn some magic.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p><strong>Servant Caster</strong><br/>Master- William Cooper<br/>True Name-<br/>Sex- Female<br/>Height/Weight- 157cm 48kg<br/>Alignment- Neutral</p>
<p>Strength- C<br/>Endurance- D<br/>Agility- A<br/>Mana- A+<br/>Luck- C<br/>Noble Phantasm: B</p>
<p>Class Abilities:<br/>Territory Creation: EX. Casters can create a magical workspace for themselves.<br/>Magical Item Creation: C</p>
<p>Skills:<br/>High Speed Divine Language</p>
<p>Fey’s illusion: Caster is a master of illusion, having made contracts with the fey themselves. Her illusions are palpable to any who do not have sufficient magical resistance, and cannot be simply banished by willpower.</p>
<p>Infernal and Elemental Contracts: Having made contracts with powerful demons and elementals in the past, Caster can call upon their powers for aid in emergencies.</p>
<p>Noble Phantasm(s):<br/>Currently Unknown</p>
<p> </p>
<p><strong>Servant Rider</strong><br/>Master-<br/>True Name- El Cid Campeador<br/>Sex- Male<br/>Alignment- Neutral Good</p>
<p>Strength- B-<br/>Endurance- B<br/>Agility- A<br/>Mana- D<br/>Luck- B<br/>Noble Phantasm: B</p>
<p>Class Abilities:<br/>Unknown</p>
<p>Skills:<br/>Unknown</p>
<p>Noble Phantasms:</p>
<p>Tizona- A holy sword. It’s attributes are currently unknown, although it is said to cause great fear in its enemies.</p>
<p>Colada- A holy sword. Although a noble phantasm, its actual powers are quite weak, with no special abilities</p>
<p>Babieca- El Cid’s massive white steed. While riding it, he can charge his opponents with the force of a hurricane.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><strong>Servant Berserker</strong><br/>Master-<br/>True Name-<br/>Sex- Male<br/>Alignment- Chaotic Neutral</p>
<p>Strength- A<br/>Endurance- A+<br/>Agility- D<br/>Magic- D<br/>Luck- D<br/>Noble Phantasm: B</p>
<p>Class Abilities-<br/>Unknown</p>
<p>Skills:<br/>Unknown</p>
<p>Noble Phantasms:<br/>Unknown</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A) Go buy a gun.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I guess we’ll go for the gun first. It’s the safest bet, plus the stores might close before too late.”</p>
<p>“Very well then.” Caster stands and puts her cloak back over her shoulders.</p>
<p>“Wait a second. You’re coming too?”</p>
<p>“Of course. The war has started, I can’t let you go out alone.”</p>
<p>“I thought you said that we’d be safe during the day?”</p>
<p>“From an outright attack, yes. But there are plenty of ways that a skillful master or his servant could get at you without attracting any attention. You could be dominated, you could be picked off from long distance, you could--”</p>
<p>“Alright, alright, I get the picture. But still, you stand out a bit much.”</p>
<p>“I do?”</p>
<p>“Yea, you do. Those clothes aren’t... well, you don’t see people walking around town dressed like that much. You’d attract too much attention.” And not just from the other masters, I say silently to myself.</p>
<p>“Hmm... very well then.”</p>
<p>She thinks for a moment, and then mutters a few syllables under her breath. Her outline starts to become hazy, her clothing becoming a silvery mist that reforms around her until she is wearing what appear to be a pair of sensible-looking black jeans and a grey high-necked sweater. She looks down at her self and nods, satisfied. “Is this better?”</p>
<p>I sigh. “Yes, I guess so. Come on then.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>----------------------------------</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The walk downtown passes uneventfully. My apartment is on the Northern side of town, where the town peters off into the mountains. About the only nice thing about the place is that it’s up a mountain a ways so that it overlooks the majority of the city below. Unfortunately, it also means a long, uphill walk back. After passing through the industrial areas in between my house and the city proper, we enter the outskirts of the commercial area.</p>
<p>I pause as we enter.</p>
<p>--Come to think of it, I don’t really know anything about buying guns, but I’m not about to admit that after we’ve come this far. I vaguely remember there being a gun store in this area of town-- probably the only one around-- from some student protest held on campus a month or two back. So we wander around for awhile before we come upon it. Caster is quiet most of the way, looking ahead suspiciously while, I assume, she scans the area magically for threats. Or maybe she’s just nervous in a modern city, I can’t tell.</p>
<p>Finally, I find the place: a little hole-in-the-wall called “Petey’s Guns and Hardware.” The old door squeaks as we enter into the dimly lighted interior.</p>
<p>The shop is cramped, dimly lit, and smells vaguely of oil and what I suppose must be gunpowder. A fat man sits behind a counter at the back reading a magazine that I doubt I want to see the cover of.</p>
<p>--I think if they weren’t outraged against it being a gun shop they could definitely be outraged over it as some kind of health code violation.</p>
<p>Not relishing the idea of having to talk to the man at the counter, I instead walk over to a nearby rack and start inspecting the merchandise.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>...</p>
<p> </p>
<p>We spend a good half hour in the shop, taking a look at what’s available. so Despite it’s run-down look, this shop is very well stocked, with a fair amount of what seem to be very high-tech new weaponry. I rule out any sort of automatic rifle or SMG, since it would be way to awkward to carry something like that around, and I doubt I’d be able to just walk up and buy one anyways. Caster implored me to find the best that I could find, regardless of the cost, so despite my misgivings at spending so much money that give me several options:</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A) A pair of high-tech looking handguns. I could easily carry these around unseen, and they carry a lot of ammo, but I don’t know how accurate I would be.<br/>B) A bolt-action rifle with a small, low-tech scope. Hard to conceal, but simple to operate and easier for a novice like me to be accurate with, plus I could hit someone from farther away.<br/>C) A small, compact shotgun. It only holds a few shots and I’d have to load it by hand but hey, I can’t get more stopping power than a shotgun spread, plus it doesn’t require any real accuracy. Easier to hide than the rifle, but I’d probably still have to wear a heavy coat to conceal it.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>A) The pair of handguns.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>I take a look at the tag underneath an open case with a pair of handguns inside: Smith &amp; Wesson M&amp;P Compact, it says, next to a dollar sign and an absurdly high number. Well, so much for that idea.</p><p>“Do those look good? I’m afraid I’m not very familiar with firearms.”</p><p>I turn to Caster, who had walked up behind me. “Yea, they’d be great, but--”</p><p>“Excellent. Get them. And grab some ammunition as well.”</p><p>“But--”</p><p>Caster glares at me, then picks up the case and takes it over to the counter where the man who I assume is “Petey” sits ignoring us. “Excuse me?” she says.</p><p>“Petey” glumly looks over the top of his magazine, then suddenly starts at seeing Caster... Christ I can smell the man starting to sweat from here. Obviously he doesn’t get many ladies in here at all, and certainly none of Caster’s caliber.</p><p>“We’d like to purchase these firearms and some ammo, please.” Caster says matter-of-factly.</p><p>I sigh. There goes half my life savings, up in smoke. I guess its still worth it. I find the right size ammo and carry a couple of extra magazines over to the counter.</p><p>“License?” “Petey” asks, turning to me.</p><p>“...License?” I ask, confused.</p><p>“...Your gun license?”</p><p>...I need a license?</p><p>“Right here.” Both of us are startled to hear Caster speak besides us. She holds out what appears to be a blank white card. What is she--</p><p>“Alright, that checks out. You want to put this on a credit card, or--”</p><p>“We’ll pay cash, thanks.” Caster reaches into her pocket and pulls out a wad of bills. She counts some off and hands them to the man, who, with a look of incredulity on his face, counts them and places them in a cash-register drawer.</p><p>“Is that all?” Caster asks.</p><p>“Uh, yea,” replies “Petey.” “Nice doing business with you, ma’m.”</p><p>He leans over towards me as Caster picks up the case and the bag of ammo. “Damn, man, how’d you manage to bag a girl like her?”</p><p>I shrug, trying not to inhale with him this close to me.</p><p>“Livin’ the dream, man. You’re livin’ the dream.”</p><p>“Come on, Will, we don’t have all day,” Caster calls from the door.</p><p>Gratefully, I follow Caster out of the store.</p><p> </p><p>---------------------------</p><p> </p><p>Once we get out to the street I turn to Caster. “Where did you get that money?”</p><p>She gives me a withering look.</p><p>“So it was an illusion... are you sure that was a good idea?”</p><p>“Why not? He saw what he wanted to see. The money will disappear in a few hours, but he has no way of proving who we were or that we were even there, other than his missing guns.”</p><p>“But there were cameras!”</p><p>She shoots me the look again. “Honestly, Will, what do you take me for? No proof remains in that store that we were ever there, other than a missing set of firearms and some ammo. Now come on, if we want to make it in time to--”</p><p> </p><p>Suddenly, Caster freezes. “What?” I ask. “What is it?”</p><p>To my surprise, she suddenly leans in next to me, slipping her arm underneath mine and resting her head on my shoulder. “Do not react,” she whispers quietly in my ear. “Follow me as if nothing is happening.”</p><p>--Right, like its so easy for me to act like nothing is happening when placed in a situation like this; in between the possibility of some sort of imminent danger and the having a woman suddenly hanging off of you out of the blue. Still, I manage to let her lead me, arm in arm, up the street, where we turn at an intersection into an alleyway. She lets go of my arm and turns, handing me the gun case.</p><p>“Take these, load them, and hide them in your jacket. We can leave the case here.”</p><p>“What’s going on?” I ask, taking the case and lifting the guns out of their foam lining. The pistols are small, and lighter than I expected-- it must be that crazy polymer stuff they’re making them out of now. I load them clumsily-- I hope I did it right-- and stow them and the extra ammo inside my jacket. They just barely break the normal lines of my jacket, so hopefully no one will notice them.</p><p>“Someone was following us after we left the store. I managed to put them off our trail for a moment there, but if it was a master or a servant they will see through my illusion soon enough. We need to move quickly.”</p><p>She looks at me expectantly, and I realize she wants me to decide where to go. We should--</p><p> </p><p>A) Leave the alleyway and wander for awhile to put any potential pursuers off our trail.<br/>B) Go out the other way and head for the woods. We can still practice magic, and if we are followed then we’ll be away from other people before our confrontation.<br/>C) Head home by a roundabout route. We shouldn’t be out if we’re potentially being watched.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Chapter 12</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I think I'll only include the Status Screen stuff when something changes, for now.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>B) Go for the woods.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>“Alright, our best bet would be to take the back way out of the shopping district. This way we can get outside of town quickly.”</p><p>“Out of town?” Caster cocks her head. “You still want to test your magical potential today?”</p><p>“Yes. We shouldn’t be followed if we go this way, plus if they do come upon us we’ll be able to strike back with full power. Plus we can circle around town to my place from where we’re going, so we won’t have to retrace our steps.”</p><p>Caster thinks for a second before nodding. “As you wish.”</p><p> </p><p>-----------------------</p><p> </p><p>After a half hour or so we finish our nervous walk through the city and arrive at the edge of the shopping district. On its eastern side there is a large park, owned by the University, that gradually trails off into the forests which surround the city. Its very popular with students, but most don’t travel very far past the well-traveled areas of the park, so after a few minutes of walking we had left the beaten path and entered a small, wooded clearing that looked almost completely untouched and was almost invisible from outside.</p><p>“Is this good?” I ask Caster.</p><p>Caster is already moving around, as if searching for something. She seems to be deep in thought. Finally, she turns and answers: “...Yes, this shall do. Excuse me for a moment.”</p><p>She walks to the center of the clearing and looks up, closing her eyes. Suddenly, she utters a phrase, spoken faster than I can hear or comprehend, and with a bright flash of light arcane symbols appear in a circle around her feet, spiraling outwards in eldritch interconnected patterns that grow and branch and spread until within seconds they are covering the entire field.</p><p>--And then, just as quickly, they vanish, and we are again standing normally in the field. I notice that Caster’s clothing has returned to its original dress and robe.</p><p>“There,” Caster says, lowering her head. “I have converted this space into a temporary atelier. Now we are protected from outside influence-- of course, a magus would be able to break through the barrier with time, but if so we will have fair warning of their approach.”</p><p>I just nod-- I somehow unconsciously keep forgetting that Caster is actually a famous ancient sorceress and not just a girl who talks like she’s from the Lord of the Rings or something.</p><p>Still, even that little bit of safety is nice, if only for a moment. Caster walks back over and sticks out her hand. “The firearms, please. I’d like to enchant them before we get started.”</p><p>“Sure.” I take the two handguns out of my pockets and hand them to Caster, who takes them and sits in the center of the field again, her legs crossed. She takes the guns and sets them down in the air in front of her and begins to speak again in that same incomprehensibly fast speech. Lines of fire begin to trace themselves in intricate patterns over the matte polymer exterior of the pistols until they are both bathed in a red glow.</p><p>Then, as suddenly as she started, Caster stops speaking, and the guns fall to the ground. She picks them up and hands them back to me.</p><p>“I did what I could. They should be stronger now; capable of piercing both conventional armor and light magical protections. I also added an enchantment to make its shots seek their intended target, which should help offset your lack of accuracy.”</p><p>I thank her honestly. “Thanks; if I’m in trouble, these will really be a help.”</p><p>Caster smiles. “You have no need to thank me; I am only doing my duty as a servant.”</p><p>“Still, thanks. It’s not like I could do any of this myself. I’d be dead at least twice now if it wasn’t for you.”</p><p>Caster looks uncomfortable-- maybe even embarrassed?-- for an instant, then quickly says “Now, you wanted me to see if I could teach you some protective magecraft, yes?”</p><p>“Yeah, if you can.” Huh, now there’s a side of her I haven’t really seen before.</p><p>“Very well then, I will make an attempt. Come to the center of the clearing.”</p><p>We walk to the center and stand, facing each other. Caster thinks for a moment before speaking.</p><p>“...in order to learn magecraft, you must first understand what magecraft is and is not.</p><p> </p><p>“...All things in this world exist because of Akasha, the world’s Origin. Everything which happens in every possible world recorded there, and by being recorded there, it happens-- I realize this may sound nonsensical, but please bear with me.</p><p>“Human beings, as opposed to animals or the children of Gaia, have a special link to this Akashic Record. Magus are people who learn to use this special link to their advantage. Magecraft and Magic are both when a Magus, by tapping into the energy of the world and themselves, use their will to distort the manner in which the Record demands the world be. It is achieving a result without the normal effort by betraying ordinary cause-and-effect by replacing it with one’s own version.</p><p>"Using magecraft is several steps. First, one internalizes the change that one wishes to make, and envisions the new system he wishes to bring about that change. Next, one converts his nerves to magic circuits, absorbing mana from his environment and prana from his own body. Finally, when enough energy has been absorbed, you find your trigger-- for each it is different, but it is a mental image which is particularly strong for you, an image of danger that will release your stored up power-- and recite any necessary incantations to fully change your internal world, before releasing the power, and the changes you have created, into the world around you.</p><p>"Do you understand?”</p><p>--No.</p><p>“...Kind of. So basically I’m telling the world to do things differently than it would normally?”</p><p>“In a way, yes. For example, in this modern day it is possible for humans to fly, correct?”</p><p>“...Fly? In an plane or helicopter, yes, but--”</p><p>“That is sufficient. The important thing is, with enough time, effort, and resources, it is possible to make a human being fly?”</p><p>“Then, yes, it is.”</p><p>“Then that is the ‘normal means’ for human flight. However, I can create a spell which will allow me to fly without the need for a plane-- I am cheating the normal cause-and-effect relationship of the ‘normal means’ for human flight, substituting the time and resources for magical energy.”</p><p>“What about magecraft that does things that are impossible for humans to do normally?”</p><p>Caster frowns. “That is what we refer to as Magic, as opposed to Magecraft. True magic can create effects that are otherwise impossible for humans to achieve, no matter how much time, effort, or resources we have... in my day, many things were considered magic that is now mere magecraft. And still few Magi have ever reached the level of Magician, one who has mastered some form of magic.”</p><p>“Ok, now I think I understand.” I still don’t understand parts of her earlier speech, but I think I got the gist of how it works.”</p><p>“Good. Now, first of all, you need to choose your ‘trigger.’ Come to think of it, I think I may know what your trigger already is.”</p><p>Huh? What mine already is? “I have one already?”</p><p>“I believe so. Remember your dream? And your summoning of me? It seems like somehow you already have a subconscious trigger for opening your circuits.”</p><p>“...The card.”</p><p>“Right. Envision, in your mind, reaching out for the card and taking hold of it. This will be the trigger that causes your circuits to release their stored Mana and Prana.”</p><p>I nod.</p><p>“Before we go any further, I will need to determine the makeup of your magic circuits... ordinarily, it would take years of training for you to be able to properly use however many you have, but it seems as though yours are already in full use, seeing as you are still supplying me with Mana. Lay down here so that I can examine you.”</p><p>Nervously I listen, laying down in the grass with my hands behind my head. Caster kneels down beside me.</p><p>“Do not be afraid. I am only going to probe your circuits; this should not be painful or unpleasant.”</p><p>Hoping I don’t look as nervous as I feel, I close my eyes. I feel a warmth on my forehead, what I assume is her hand.</p><p>“Please concentrate on your trigger now. Imagine the process in your mind-- the card appearing before you, and you reaching out to grab it."</p><p>I begin.</p><p>
  <em>I see the card in front of me, floating in the darkness inside my eyelids. It is just out of reach. No, it is not; it is just barely within my reach. I reach out towards it with my mind, and it draws closer, and I bring my hands up to take hold of it--</em>
</p><p>--Then, suddenly, I feel as if a bold of lightning has shot its way down my spine. I jerk, and Caster gasps and pulls her hand away. I sit up rapidly. My head is swimming, and it takes me a moment to get my focus back.</p><p> </p><p>...</p><p> </p><p>When I do, I see Caster staring at me, a look of total shock and disbelief on her face.</p><p>“...Will.” She says, finally.</p><p>“What is it Caster? What’s wrong?” I respond confused.</p><p>“...What in the world are you, really?”</p><p>“...What do you mean?”</p><p>Caster is silent for a moment before speaking.</p><p>“...Think of a person like a dam,” she says, finally, “with a massive lake of water behind it representing the Prana in ones body and the Mana in the world around them. A normal person is like an ordinary completely solid dam-- no matter how much water is in the lake, none of it can pass through this dam and into the dry valley on the other side.</p><p>“A magus is a dam with channels cut into it which can allow water to pass through, It can control the amount of water that comes through and when; the more holes the dam has, and the larger those holes, the more water can come through, creating a stream which can be controlled. Do you understand?”</p><p>I nod.</p><p>“But you...”</p><p>She pauses for a moment before continuing, as if she is choosing her words carefully. When she does speak, her words come tumbling out all at once.</p><p>“You are like a dam that was once whole and solid but has had a massive gash forcibly carved out of it. You have no magic circuits, Will. You should not have the slightest potential for magic-- but--</p><p>“Something has... has cut one into you. And a huge amount of mana is pouring out into it, and I have no idea why.”</p><p> </p><p>----------------</p><p> </p><p>I sit in silence for a moment, trying to take in what Caster has just told me.</p><p>“You should be dead, Will.” Caster says quietly. “Your body and mind should not have been able to take whatever it was that gave you that circuit-- such a thing should be impossible. But you are alive, and your body has healed most of the hole it created. I’m afraid that if you tried to use any more mana than what is still leaking out, you could break it open again... I’m sorry, Will, but I cannot teach you any magic. Not without putting you into danger.”</p><p>I stare down at my hands.</p><p>--This is crazy. I’ve always felt completely normal. It’s not like I’ve ever had any health problems or accidents. I’m just a normal guy, right?</p><p>I was just a normal guy.</p><p> </p><p>Just then, Caster stands with a start. “They found it.”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“Someone is attempting to break the barrier I placed on the apartment. They have just pierced the first layer-- at this rate they will be able to get inside within two hours.”</p><p>Shit! I don’t have time to be moping about this stuff, there’s a war going on!</p><p> </p><p>A) We have to go back to the house and confront them. We know where they are, they’re occupied, and I know the area well, so we can get the jump on them.<br/>B) Let them get in. We should stay somewhere else in town tonight, it’s to soon for us to fight anyone.<br/>C) Let them get in. We should stay here for the night-- its already off the beaten path and Caster can set up additional magical defenses, plus if they find us we can lay an ambush.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Status Screen Updated!</p><p>Enchanted Smith &amp; Wesson M&amp;P Compacts<br/>A pair of handguns enchanted for Will by Caster. They can pierce any conventional armor and up to D rank magical armor, and their shots seek their target-- although aiming is still required, and they are nowhere near the level of a certain-hit weapon.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Chapter 13</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>A) Go back to the house and confront them</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>“Alright, we can swing around the edge of the park and come back into the complex from the back way.”</p><p>I’m already moving through the trees. Caster following behind me, calls out:</p><p>“You want to go after them?”</p><p>“It’s a good chance-- whoever they are, we know where they are and what they’re doing, and they’ll be occupied while we have a chance to sneak up. If its a master or servant, its a good chance for us to get an early victory. Plus...”</p><p>“...plus what?”</p><p>“Do you have any idea how big the security deposit is on that place? If they mess up my goddamn furniture--”</p><p>I come out of the trees onto the field that makes up the park proper.</p><p>--This is all moving to fast. I thought I had started to get a handle on what’s been going on, but this last revelation, and this new threat, has got me all mixed up again. Caster comes up beside me.</p><p>“Alright, Will, we shall face them at your apartment. Luckily, when I set up the defenses last night I planned for just this type of contingency.”</p><p> </p><p>-------------------------</p><p> </p><p>We come to the back gate of the complex. Caster motions me to stop, and stands silently for a moment, eyes closed, mouth moving softly.</p><p>“...They’re almost through the barrier,” she says, finally. “They’re outside the door. Two beings. One is working on the door, the other is watching.... they are almost without a doubt a master and servant.”</p><p>“Can you tell which one?”</p><p>“No. This servant, whoever he is, is obviously good at masking his abilities. We must proceed with caution.”</p><p>“You have a plan?”</p><p>She frowns. “We must learn more about our opponents before making any kind of attack. Subtlety is my strong suit, remember.”</p><p>I nod. “Alright. We need to get closer and observe them, then.”</p><p>Caster nods back. “Leave it to me.”</p><p> </p><p>She utters another incomprehensible phrase and immediately our surroundings seem to become cloaked in shadow. Caster speaks, and her voice seems to come from a long way away.</p><p>
  <em>“We are now contained within an illusion-- no one should be able to see or interact with either of us, and anything either of us says will only be heard by the other, wherever we may be in relation to one another.”</em>
</p><p>I nod, impressed. I take one of my guns out of my jacket and grip it tightly in my hands.</p><p>--This is it. In a few moments we meet the enemy. Its funny, I think, that a few days ago, “meeting the enemy” meant something like running into that guy from my Stats class that almost threw up on me at that one party last semester in the hallway and hoping he didn’t see me. And now my life is on the line--</p><p>I dismiss such thoughts from my head. Now’s not the time for reminiscing.</p><p>There are three main buildings that make up my apartment complex. Each is four stories tall, and the rooms are accessed by a series of staircases and walkways going up the exteriors of each of them. My apartment is on the third story of the second building, which is located between the two. To get there from here, we circle around the building, and both end up crouched in a bed of bushes and trees at the edge of the lot.</p><p>On the walkway outside my door stands two figures-- at this distance, I can’t really make them out, but one of them has its back to us, its hands extended against my door, and a red light is flashing randomly around it.</p><p>Caster looks at me expectantly. <em>”We need to get closer. If we can find out which servant this is, it would be a great help.”</em></p><p>
  <em>“Yea, but how are we supposed to do that? Can we just walk over there?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Not exactly. We will reveal our presence if we get closer, although not our exact location.”</em>
</p><p>I think for a moment. We have to get closer to find out what’s going on. Obviously, though, a direct assault won’t work.</p><p>--Also... I know that it may be inappropriate for this War, but... I want to avoid killing anyone. The weight of the handgun in my hand feels unnatural to me. I’ll shoot if my life is in danger, I think, but I don’t think I could just kill this enemy magus. Defeat his servant, yes, but to actually kill him...</p><p>I look over at Caster, who is staring intently up at the two figures. Will she kill them? Will she hesitate? What lengths is she willing to go to to win?</p><p>...I shake my head. Now is not the time to be thinking of such things--</p><p> </p><p>A) We should split up and move in closer. They’ll know we’re here, but they won’t know where either of us are, and we can bait them where we want them.<br/>B) Caster should create some kind of diversion to draw them away from the door, then take down the servant.<br/>C) Maybe I should create a diversion. I’m not immediately detectable as a master, so maybe if I pretend to be a normal bystander and walk in on them they’ll scatter-- or focus their attention on me and give Caster a chance to strike.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Chapter 14</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>C) I’ll create a diversion</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>“...So we can’t get any closer without them noticing us? Can you make yourself completely undetectable?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“...Myself, yes, if I concentrate all my energy towards that purpose. But that would mean that you--”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Do it. Make me visible again.”</em>
</p><p><em>“What?”</em>Caster looks confused.</p><p><em>“Just trust me. I have an idea.”</em> A crazy idea, sure, but so far most of my crazy ideas have turned out well.</p><p>Caster complies with a look of reluctance. <em>”You are now visible again. What is your plan?”</em></p><p>
  <em>“I want you to get as close as you can to them without giving yourself away and wait for me to give an order.”<br/>“And you?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I’m going to go up there. They don’t know I’m a master, so if I feign ignorance, they’ll either leave so I don’t see what they’re doing or attack and reveal themselves.”</em>
</p><p><em>“You’re using yourself as bait?”</em> Caster says in a shocked voice.</p><p>
  <em>”Not bait... Just trust me, ok? I don’t want to fight them head-on in a place like this, there’s too much risk for collateral damage.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“...Very well. But if I think you are in any danger I will step in immediately. If you wish to stop me from doing so, use a command spell.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Don’t worry, I trust your sense of danger.”</em>
</p><p>I stand up from the bushes, now visible, and walk purposefully over towards the apartment. As I go I hear a soft voice in my ear.</p><p>
  <em>I am keeping a connection open between us, Caster’s voice says. If you wish to speak to me, simply speak within your head towards me and I will hear you.</em>
</p><p><em>Good thinking</em> I think back, as I reach the steps and begin climbing.</p><p>As I crest the steps to the third floor I see the red flicker cease. They probably know I’m coming by now. Luckily a plan has already formed in my head as I reach the walkway level and proceed towards the two figures standing before my door.</p><p>By the door itself stands a woman, seemingly in her mid twenties-- somewhat older than me, at least, but not by more than a few years-- dressed in a sensible-looking blouse and blue jeans, her red hair tied back in a working ponytail behind her head, and a pair of small thin-rimmed glasses rest lightly on the base of her nose. Beside her stands a tall, thin man in jeans and a light jacket, with a nondescript face and tousled brown hair.</p><p>“Excuse me, ma’am,” I say, as they turn towards me. “Can I help you?”</p><p>“Who the hell are you?” the woman snaps at me.</p><p>“Sorry, ma’am, I didn’t mean to offend you,” I respond, acting as sheepish and subservient as possible. I motion towards the front gate of the complex. “I’m from the landlord’s office. I saw some light up here and, well, can’t be too careful, you know what I mean? But you two look like residents. Anything I can help you with?”</p><p>Immediately I see the woman’s face shift from surprise to total self-confidence. She smiles disarmingly.</p><p>“Sorry I snapped at you, I’m just tired, is all, and I managed to lock myself out of my apartment here. Do you think you could let us in?”</p><p>...That bitch. She just lied through her teeth, and if it wasn’t my apartment she was trying to break into, I probably would have believed her. Still, can’t break character.</p><p>I glance over at the man with her and smile knowingly. “Ahh, I see, I see. Well--</p><p> </p><p>A) I’ve got a master key right here, I’ll fix you up” (I’ll let them in with my key. Caster can go in the back window and be waiting for them inside... I hate risking my apartment on a fight like that though.)<br/>B) the landlord said I can’t just let people in like that, I gotta see some proof you live here. Rules, sorry.” (If I confront them like this, maybe they’ll give up? Or they’ll attack, but hopefully Caster could save me from that, and we’d see the servant’s true form.)<br/>C) you gotta pay a fine for forgetting your key. Could you come to the main office with me? I’ll get the master key there for ya.” (I’ll lead them away from the building and let Caster attack them on the way. It’s risky, but it gets them away from the building.)</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Chapter 15</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>C) Lead them away from the building</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>--”I hate to say this, but, well, I can’t just let you back in like that. There’s a fine for forgetting your key, see, and some paperwork... well, if it was me I’d just let you in, but it's not my call, you know?” I finish, smiling and scratching my head sheepishly.</p><p>The tall man steps forwards and I tense, tightening my hold on the gun in my pocket, but the girl puts out a hand and he stops. She smiles.</p><p>“Alright, I understand. Do we have to go back to the office for this?”</p><p>“Erm... yes ma’am, terribly sorry, but--”</p><p>She sighs. “It’s alright. It’s my fault for forgetting my key in the first place, after all.”</p><p>“Well then, if you’d just come with me, please.” I turn and start heading down the stairs. I hear their footsteps following me.</p><p><em>Did you hear all that?</em> I think towards Caster.</p><p>
  <em>Yes. I will be waiting at the east corner of the building ahead of you. Lead them past there.</em>
</p><p>I look behind me as I get to the bottom of the stairs. They’re still following me, the girl with a bored and annoyed expression on her face, the man impassive as before.</p><p>--I’m sweating. My knuckles are probably white underneath my jacket on the handle of the pistol. This is it. Just a little farther and it’ll be time to attack.</p><p> </p><p>I just hope I’m ready for it.</p><p> </p><p>We’re almost to the side of the building. Closer. We reach the corner. We turn the corner. I can feel Caster’s presence nearby. I ready myself to spring out of the way of Caster’s attack, and--</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>--”Oh ho, what’s this?”</p><p> </p><p>A figure is silhouetted against the lights from the street ahead. My heart sinks as I recognize the arrogance in that voice.</p><p>“Oh, fortune is shining upon me tonight. I come following one Master and I manage to find two!”</p><p><em>...Shit.</em> I hear the girl behind me gasp at this statement as the figure steps forward into the light. This confirms it-- those archaic clothes of nobility could only be one person: the Servant Rider.</p><p>“And it’s that rat again! You just love showing up uninvited, don’t you?” He leers at me. “I won’t fault you this time, though, seeing how convenient it is for me. Where’s your servant, rat? Hiding again?” He begins striding forward, pulling a sword from its sheath-- Colada again. He’s trying not to reveal his identity.</p><p>
  <em>Caster, what is--</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I’m sorry, Will! He was masking his prescience, he just showed up and I was busy monitoring you! I--</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Don’t worry about it, just hold position and be ready to act as soon as I say something or appear to be in danger. Lets not give you away yet.</em>
</p><p>--Suddenly, I hear a voice from behind me.</p><p>“Useless, foolish man.”</p><p>I move aside as the tall man strides forwards to face Rider. Rider stops advancing and looks at his new foe intently. “And who might you be? Show yourself! Or are you a coward who will not fight with his honor on the line?”</p><p>“Honor, to a man who flaunts himself as you do?” the tall man says, his face still impassive. “Honor goes to those who are strong enough to claim it. And you are not strong enough to deserve such observation from me.”</p><p>The once smug face of Rider twists in to a snarl. “How dare you call me, a man of noble blood--”</p><p>“How dare you claim such nobility--”</p><p>I have just enough time to jump backwards before the two of them spring forward, colliding with a force that leaves a small crater in the pavement around them. I strain my eyes to catch a glimpse of the tall man’s weapon, but it appears invisible, only flashing for an instant when it connects with Rider’s weapon-- a longsword? A lance? I can’t tell, but--</p><p>I hear two female voices shouting in unison. I spin around, pulling my pistol out of my pocket, in time to see Caster appear before me, throwing up a spinning arcane shield against a barrage of light issuing from the finger of the red-headed girl.</p><p>She laughs. “So it’s a Caster. I should have figured, from the complexity of the barrier. I guess I can’t compete with a Sorceress like you.”</p><p>“Are you hurt, Will?” Caster asks, not taking her eyes of the girl before us.</p><p>“No, I’m alright... you stepped in just in time, thanks.”</p><p>Another series of flashes. Caster’s shield holds with no sign of damage. She turns her attention back to the red-haired magus, who is already sprinting away around the corner of the building.</p><p> </p><p>A) We can’t let her get away! We have to chase her.<br/>
B) The two servants behind us seem occupied with one another. Caster should blast both of them together while they’re unawares.<br/>
C) We’ll split up. I’ll go after the enemy master, and Caster can take care of the two servants.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Status Screen Updated!</p><p>Skills:<br/>High Speed Divine Language</p><p>Fey’s illusion: Caster is a master of illusion, having made contracts with the fey themselves. Her illusions are palpable to any who do not have sufficient magical resistance, and cannot be simply banished by willpower.</p><p>Infernal and Elemental Contracts: Having made contracts with powerful demons and elementals in the past, Caster can call upon their powers for aid in emergencies.</p><p>
  <em>Stealth- Caster can render herself completely invisible and undetectable by magical or mundane means. Maintaining this illusion costs most of her concentration, though, so she cannot use magic over D rank while it is active<br/></em>
</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Chapter 16</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>C) Split up.</b>
</p><p> </p><p>“Keep them busy, Caster.”</p><p>“What are you--”<br/>--I’m already on my way around the corner. I can’t let that girl get away. Caster can take those two on easily, and if I can get rid of the master...</p><p>If I can.</p><p>I leap sideways as a lance of light strikes down on me. I look up and see the red-headed girl on the first floor walkway of the first building. I run towards the steps, narrowly dodging the arcane fire which she hurls at me with each step. If I can just get a clear shot at her...</p><p>I crest the last step. She stands at the end of the walkway, facing me. I ready my gun, flat out at her.</p><p>“Stop, or I’ll shoot!” I cry.</p><p>--She turns, emotionlessly, throwing out an arm and chanting something in an odd guttural language</p><p>--I pull the trigger, feeling the kickback of the gun around my arm and watching the bullet lance away towards her and</p><p>Pain sears through my head. I feel an intense heat from my chest.</p><p>I look down.</p><p>There’s what appears to be a lance of solid light skewering me through the chest.</p><p>It burns.</p><p>I drop my gun.</p><p> </p><p>I fall to the ground</p><p> </p><p>And then</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Nothing.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <strong> DEAD END</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>-------------------------</p><p> </p><p>I wake up with a start. I’m cold and sore. My head is resting on something hard. Slowly I raise my head and open my eyes.</p><p> </p><p>...this is odd. I think I remember being near my apartment, and in a fight of some sort... but... where is this? It looks like some kind of classroom. The hard thing my head was resting on was the top of a desk in the back near the window. The rest of the classroom is deserted.</p><p>...How did I get here?</p><p>There’s something written on the board-- maybe it’s some kind of clue to where I am. I walk up, and, scrawled across the board in neat, tidy handwriting is written:</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <strong>“Teach me, Caster-sensei!”</strong>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>--Ok, what the <em>hell?</em></p><p>“Ah, you made it!”</p><p>I spin around. Caster has just walked in the door... or, well, I guess it’s Caster. She’s dressed in what appears to be the stereotypical teacher’s outfit-- or at least, what horny teenagers often wish was the stereotypical teachers outfit-- complete with hose, the hair up in a bun, and those glasses that have the chains coming off of them. If I had a teacher or librarian fetish, I’d be feeling great right now, but right now I’m just confused.</p><p>“Or, well, I guess you didn’t make it, did you?” she says.</p><p>“What? What’s going on here, Caster?”</p><p>“What’s going on? You died.”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“You died. Honestly, what were you thinking, going against a Magus alone like that. Your guns are still a last-ditch measure; against a full fledged magus, you’re no better than any other normal person.”</p><p>“Well, I was just trying to--”</p><p>“Just trying to nothing. I’m sure you’ll get some kind of crazy power up at some point, and heroism is going to be rewarded, but until then being too rash is just going to get you killed. You’re not Shirou, ok? You can’t come back from things like that.”</p><p>“Shirou? Who’s that?”</p><p>“Never mind. The point is, you want to stick close to me around this point in the game, alright?”</p><p>“Umm... ok?” This doesn’t sound like Caster. “But seriously, Caster, what is this place? What’s going on?”</p><p>“Oh, this? This is just a metaphor. It isn’t for your benefit, anyways, so don’t worry about it.”</p><p>“What? Then why--”</p><p>“Because Doink likes meta-humor and it seemed appropriate since Nasu did it, that's why!”</p><p>“Who the hell is Doink and what does he have to do with this! If this is supposed to be funny then it’s a shitty attempt at comedy!”</p><p>“Well at least there’s no annoying mascot character yet... Just don’t worry about it for now. Try not to make the same mistakes and you won’t have to worry about it again, either. Goodbye!”</p><p>Suddenly I feel my head swim. The room seems to shimmer and vanish around me, and--</p><p> </p><p>---------------------------</p><p> </p><p>--“Are you hurt, Will?” Caster asks, not taking her eyes of the girl before us.</p><p>“No, I’m alright... you stepped in just in time, thanks.”</p><p>Another series of flashes. Caster’s shield holds with no sign of damage. She turns her attention back to the red-haired magus, who is already sprinting away around the corner of the building.</p><p> </p><p>A) We can’t let her get away! We have to chase her.<br/>B) The two servants behind us seem occupied with one another. Caster should blast both of them together while they’re unawares.<br/>C) We’ll split up. I’ll go after the enemy master, and Caster can take care of the two servants.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Chapter 17</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>A) We can’t let her get away!</strong>
</p><p>“Follow her!”</p><p>Caster nods, and with a flash she vanishes. I sprint around the corner.</p><p>I hear a bang above me and look up to see the red-headed girl on the walkway a floor above me, glowing brighter and brighter, a tracery of green and red beginning to appear on her exposed hand. I rush to the steps and hurl myself up the stairs in time to see her release a torrent of light out of her extended arm at the other end of the walkway--</p><p>--But as it approaches the end it suddenly shoots off at an angle, burning a gash in the pavement of the road below.</p><p> </p><p>Caster alights lightly on the railing at the end of the walkway. Her robe is drawn up, and her face in shadow; her robe is flowing as if it was in a great wind, and she holds aloft a massive staff of gnarled, aged wood, traced with occult symbology that burns from within with a fierce eldritch light.</p><p>“Well now, you importunate girl,” Caster says, her voice harsher than I’ve heard her speak before. “How disgraceful, attempting such pitiful magecraft against one such as myself. Mind your elders.”</p><p>I silently move into position behind the red-headed girl, bringing my gun to bear on her back. We have her surrounded. She clicks her tongue in irritation.</p><p>--With a flash, she brings her hand up to unleash some spell, but Caster is faster. A single utterance, and suddenly all light to this little platform is blotted out. I feel a nauseating sensation of vertigo as I realize that it as if the rest of the world around this platform has vanished in an instant, leaving the three of us standing in an empty world devoid of everything but this platform. The girl, stunned, drops her arm back to her sides as an enormous gateway begins to tear its way into the darkness, from which begins to pour a horrible, sickly light.</p><p>“What do you plan to do now, girl? You are alone here; your servant cannot save you here. Should I just kill you now, and save the trouble? Will you continue to amuse me with your second-rate modern magic? You cannot even master Runic Speech, let alone the Divine Language. Pitiful.”</p><p>...Caster seems so... different like this. So cruel. This is nothing like the Caster which I’ve seen so far.</p><p>The red-haired girl looks grimly ahead at Caster. I tighten my grip on the gun. I don’t want to fire, but will I have to?... Probably not. At this point, there doesn’t seem to be anything she could possibly do against Caster’s overwhelming might.</p><p>The number of tears behind Caster has increased to an almost infinite number, making the darkness glow with an arcane light. She stretches out her arm and speaks a single syllable, and a hundred thousand lances of pure magic lance out in an instant to skewer the hapless master--</p><p> </p><p>A burning light appears on the Master’s left hand. “Saber, to me! Protect me!”</p><p> </p><p>--In an instant, the darkness unravels, and we are again standing on the platform on the side of the building as if none of the previous minute had ever occurred. Before the red-headed magus stands the tall man, in a crouch, holding aloft a sword which smokes with the reflected force of Caster’s barrage.</p><p>He stands.</p><p>“Witch,” he says, “You have earned the honor of fighting me. Be grateful.”</p><p>Caster stands motionless and without emotion as the tall man reaches and grabs his face--</p><p> </p><p>--And pulls off a gilded helm.</p><p> </p><p>I gasp. Where there once stood a tall thin man now stands a massive figure, at least 7 feet, wearing a suit of scaled armor laced with intricate gold patterns. His hair is flowing and blonde, and his face has a noble, firm set to it, with a knotted circlet of gold encircling his his head. The helm vanishes, and he holds out his sword again-- a longsword, made of shadowy steel-- towards Caster.</p><p>“Do not interfere, Boy. This battle is between me and the witch.” I suddenly realize that the massive man, the servant Saber, is addressing me. “That includes using that weapon of yours against my master. If you do so, I will kill you in an instant.”</p><p>I gulp, but keep my weapon trained on her. <em>Caster, what now?</em></p><p><em>We can’t beat a Saber in straight-combat</em>, she says, and I can hear the tension in her internal voice. <em>Their natural magic resistance is too high, and I can’t prepare a proper assault if he can attack me. We must retreat!</em></p><p>I nod. How can we get ourselves out of this!</p><p> </p><p>Two Part Choice:</p><p>A) I’ll have to overcome my reluctance and shoot the Master! If it hits, no more Servant, and even if it doesn’t it’ll distract them long enough for us to make our escape.<br/>B) Have Caster make another illusion to distract them. Even if Saber can tear through them, Caster said that they can’t just be dispelled like normal illusions, so by the time he gets through them we can be long gone.<br/>C) Try to negotiate with the enemy Master or Saber. Maybe we can come to an agreement.</p><p>If A or B, then should I:</p><p>1) Run to my apartment to get some things, then leave<br/>2) Flee straight into the forest.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Status Screen Updated!</p><p><strong>Servant Saber</strong><br/>Master-<br/>True Name-<br/>Sex- Male<br/>Alignment- Lawful Good</p><p>Strength- A<br/>Endurance- A<br/>Agility- C<br/>Mana- B<br/>Luck- C<br/>Noble Phantasm(s): A+</p><p>Class Abilities-<br/>Magic Resistance: A<br/>Ride: C</p><p>Skills:<br/>Currently Unknown</p><p>Noble Phantasms:<br/>Currently Unknown</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Chapter 18</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>C) Try to negotiate.</strong>
</p><p>“...You don’t want to do that,” I say, as Saber steps forward towards Caster.</p><p>He stops. “...and why is that?”</p><p><em>What are you doing?</em> Caster’s voice rings in my head</p><p><em>Just trust me!</em> I reply. I’ve bluffed my way out of enough things before, goddamnit. Bullshitting, don’t fail me now.</p><p>“This is a bad scenario for both of us. If you attack Caster, and I’ll be frank about this, you’ll probably win. She may be powerful, but she can’t compete with your natural magic resistance in a head-on fight. And if Caster dies, as a master without a servant I might as well be dead. However--”</p><p>I center the gun on the red-headed master’s back, staring down the sight as I speak.</p><p>“I have a gun trained on your master’s spine. I know you servants are fast, but you can’t stop a bullet at this range, and these bullets can pierce a human magus’ shields. You’ll probably kill me if I shoot, but with your master gone, you’re as good as dead as well. It’s mutually assured destruction.”</p><p>I can see the girl in front of me stiffen, but she does not move. I try to keep my voice steady as I continue.</p><p>“This is disadvantageous for both of us, right? A no-win situation. Neither of us can win the Grail if we both die here--” I take a breath “--so why don’t we compromise?”</p><p>Silence. For a moment, everything is still, and then.</p><p> </p><p>“heheheh....AHAHAHAHAHAHA”</p><p>Saber breaks into a deep, hearty laugh.</p><p> </p><p>“Boy,” he says, chuckling, “you must have the nerves of Tyr himself to say such things in the face of death. What is this compromise which you seek?”</p><p>“First, we exchange information-- I’ll tell you what you want to know, and you’ll tell us what we want to know.” I’m reaching here, but if they were trying to break into my house then they obviously were looking for something, and I have a sneaking suspicion as to what it is.</p><p>Saber nods, and I continue. ”Secondly, we both agree to withdraw for now. We are sure to meet again in a less mutually fatal situation. And finally,” I just hope this convinces them, “I can tell you the identity of the servant you were previously fighting.”</p><p>Saber thinks for a second, and then, to my surprise, nods, his sword vanishing. “Lower your gun, then.”</p><p>Slowly I do so. As I do, my heart jumps as the red-headed girl in front of me begins to move, but Saber holds up his hand to stop her.</p><p>“No. We shall honor this agreement, Master. This boy can be trusted.”</p><p>“Why should we trust him? Not only is he Cooper’s son, but he’s a member of the Compact--”</p><p>“Compact? I’m not a member of any Compact,” I call out. The girl whirls to face me.</p><p>“Then how did you enter this war? You should have been unable to summon a servant without being part of the Compact.”</p><p>“I have no idea what you are talking about.”</p><p>She stares at me for a second, then appears deep in thought.</p><p>“So he’s an unauthorized entrant too? But how?” She mutters to herself.</p><p>“Unauthorized entrant? What are you talking about?”</p><p>She looks up at me. “Well, it looks like we DO have information to exchange then. Very well then, since we agreed to this little compromise we’ll ask the first questions. You are William Cooper, correct?”</p><p>I nod.</p><p>“Son of Richard Cooper?”</p><p>I nod again.</p><p>“...What do you know of your father’s works?”</p><p>“...Not much. I know he was somehow studying magecraft, and that he did some kind of experiments before his disappearance, and that he took most of his work with him when he disappeared.”</p><p>She frowns. “So you have no information? No papers of his?”</p><p>I hesitate. “You’re the second person to ask me that question, you know?”</p><p>She starts. “Who? Who else asked you?” she demands.</p><p>“Charles Campbell, one of my--</p><p> </p><p>Suddenly the red-head’s eyes narrow with rage. “You know Campbell? Saber, I knew this kid couldn’t be trusted! He’s probably--”</p><p>“Whoa, hold on. I never said I was working with him or anything. I don’t even know what he has to do with any of this. All I know is that before I became involved in this, he called me to his office and asked me if I had any of my dad’s notes.”</p><p>“And you told him?”</p><p>I hesitate. Oh well, nothing wrong with telling the truth at this point.</p><p>“...I lied, and told him I had some. I’m supposed to meet him Monday to give them to him, in exchange for information about my father.”</p><p>--”So you don’t have any papers?”</p><p>“No. I know nothing.”</p><p> </p><p>The red-head thinks for a second, then sighs. “Useless,” she mumbles, before looking back up at me. “Alright, I don’t know how you got yourself into this. You’re not a Magus, but you’re not Compact either; and to top if all off you’re Cooper’s son. You’re an enigma, and you seem too bewildered to be faking ignorance. Go ahead, ask your questions-- I’ll give you three, since I asked that many, but I reserve the right to not answer if I wish.”</p><p>I should ask her--</p><p> </p><p>A) What’s this Compact you keep mentioning?<br/>B) What’s so bad about Campbell?<br/>C) Why do you want my father’s notes?<br/>D) What’s this “Unauthorized Entrant” thing about?<br/>E) Can you tell me anything about any other servants or masters?<br/>F) Who are you, and why are you participating in this war?</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. Chapter 19</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>A, C, and F</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>“Alright. First of all, what is this ‘Compact’ you keep talking about? And what does it have to do with this War?”</p><p>“...You really don’t know anything, do you?” The redheaded mage sighs.</p><p>“I told you, I didn’t intend to become a part of this war, I know nothing about it.”</p><p>“And I told you that there’s no way that could happen. But I suppose you wouldn’t be asking if you knew. Or maybe you’re just tricking me.”</p><p>She sighs, and begins speaking.</p><p> </p><p>--“...The 6th Compact is a group centered around a group of powerful magi who left the Association and went underground several years ago before resurfacing here, suddenly, and somehow recreating the Heaven’s Feel ritual. Which, given what happened the last time that was attempted, should be entirely impossible.</p><p>“What’s even more impossible is that they’ve managed to grant mastership to a number of non-Magi-- for a fee. I’ve already met with one master who wasn’t a magus, and now I see you, who not only is not a magus but professes to have summoned a Servant unwittingly--”</p><p> </p><p>“Never mind that. You’ll have to take my word that I have nothing to do with this ‘6th Compact’ at least.”</p><p>“I find that hard to believe, seeing how close your Father was with them”</p><p> </p><p>I stiffen. “My father? What did he have to do with all this?”</p><p>She shrugs. “We don’t know. Your father was a bit of an enigma; no magical talent at all, yet he managed to attract the attention of some powerful magi-- like your old friend Campbell.”</p><p>--So Campbell is a magus? And part of this ‘6th Compact’?</p><p>“The reason we were planning on breaking into your house was to try and discover what your father had done that was so interesting to them. But when we saw the barrier we of course feared the worst about you and your father’s involvement in all this... and I’m still not entirely convinced. But now you tell me Campbell is after the same thing...”</p><p>“But what about you, then?” I ask, changing the direction of my questioning. “If you’re not a part of this Compact, how do you know so much about all this?</p><p>She glares at me. “That’s not information I can just give away so easily. Let’s just say I’m an unauthorized entrant like you, and that I happen to be seeking the same information you are...”</p><p>Suddenly, she brightens.</p><p>--I don’t like the look of this smile of hers. It’s the smile of a predator, of a used-car salesman who has realized that he’s just about to sell a car that doesn’t run-- the smile of someone who knows they have an offer which cannot be refused.</p><p>“Tell you what. You said that Campbell was seeking the same documents I was?”</p><p>I nod.</p><p>“But these documents do not exist.”</p><p>I nod again. “No such documents exist, to the best of my knowledge.”</p><p>“And you’re supposed to meet him on Monday to hand over these ‘documents’”</p><p>I nod. I’m beginning to see where this is going...</p><p>“Perfect!” She claps her hands together in satisfaction. “Maybe this little compromise of ours was lucky after all...”</p><p>...Does she notice how often she talks to herself? She turns her attention back to me.</p><p>“How would you like to extend this little truce of ours a bit further?”</p><p>I blink. “Excuse me?”</p><p>“You have a deal with a man which you cannot go through with, and which you are not likely to be able to extract any useful information from. I, on the other hand, am seeking to trap a man who is ordinarily very well protected, and I happen to know exactly what to ask.”</p><p>Suddenly, Caster speaks: “You want to plan an ambush?”</p><p>The redheaded master doesn’t turn. “Of course the sorceress is quick on the uptake. That’s right. It’s the best deal for both of us. If we can ambush him when he comes to take the ‘notes’, we can get all the information we need out of him. It will be risky, of course-- Campbell is a powerful magus in his own right, and I haven’t been able to discover if he has a servant or not-- but with the four of us, there’s no way we can’t win, and get all the information both of us are looking for.</p><p>“And,” she says, with that same smile, “if you don’t betray me, maybe I’ll tell you more myself.”</p><p><em>Caster.</em> I reach out with my mind,<em> what do you think?</em></p><p>
  <em>...As much as I would dislike working with this woman, it does not seem like a bad offer on the surface. However, it depends on how much you trust these two.</em>
</p><p>I have to give my answer. We’ll--</p><p>A) Cooperate with the ambush plan. It sounds good, and even if we can’t fully trust them we can be on our guard well enough to protect from backstabbing-- probably.<br/>B) Refuse to work with them. It’s too risky to associate with them beyond this short truce, despite the advantages of such cooperation.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. Chapter 20</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>A) Cooperate.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>“...Alright, we’ll cooperate.”</p><p>“Excellent!”</p><p>She sticks out her hand to me. Caster stiffens, but I reach out and shake it anyways.</p><p>“Meet me tomorrow night at midnight in Eastside Park. We’ll make our plans then.”</p><p>“We’ll be there.” I let go of her hand. She turns to Saber.</p><p>“Alright Saber, let’s go take care of that pest from before. It's the least we can do for our new allies here, right?” She turns back to me. “I suggest you find somewhere else to stay for the time being, seeing as now at least two masters know where you live. Plus Campbell, probably.”</p><p>I nod, and she brushes past me, walking down the stairs without another word.</p><p>Saber turns to me before he leaves, a wry smile on his face.</p><p>“You are an interesting boy. I look forward to seeing what else you can do. And you as well, Witch,” he says, looking over his shoulder at Caster, who ignores him. He smiles broader, then leaps with inhuman agility over the side of the walkway and to the ground below to where his Master waits.</p><p> </p><p>--What an odd pair. I walk over to Caster, who hops down from the railing she had been perching on.</p><p>“What do you think?”</p><p>“...it does not matter what I think, the decision has already been made. For now, we should find some new lodging for the night.”</p><p>“Caster?” I peer at her, but her face is obscured by her hood.</p><p>“Yes, Will?” she says innocently.</p><p>“Uh, Never mind," I respond quickly. "It’s nothing.”</p><p> </p><p>...Is she... <em>pouting?</em></p><p> </p><p>I think for a moment. Where could we go?--</p><p> </p><p>A) We should hide out in the forest. It’ll be rough, but no-one will expect us there, and there’s so much forest it would be tough to find us even if they knew.<br/>B) We can stay with a friend across town. It’ll be tough to explain what’s going on, but I’m sure he’ll understand. Somehow.<br/>C) We’ll go stay at a hotel... Money isn’t really a concern thanks to Caster’s illusions, so we could even live it up a little. There’s a really nice resort hotel downtown, and I bet no-one would expect a college student like me to be there.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0021"><h2>21. Chapter 21</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>C) We’ll go stay at a hotel.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>I sigh.</p><p>“Alright, Caster, let’s get out of here. Its getting too late for this.”</p><p>“Hmmm?” I start walking down the steps. Caster hurries over and falls into step behind me.</p><p>“Can you do that fake ID and money thing again?”</p><p>She glares at me. “Of course, what kind of magus do you think I am--”</p><p>“Good. Then we can afford a little luxury.”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“Just trust me. Come on.”</p><p> </p><p>-----------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>After stopping back by the apartment to grab a suitcase and some clothes and supplies, we set off across town. By now it’s around 1am. I’m a little worried that where we’re going will no longer be open.</p><p>Finally, we arrive at our destination. I hear Caster gasp beside me as we approach the the massive building.</p><p>The Hotel Règle d'Or. It was built here around the time this city stopped being a quiet college town and started being a major tourist destination around 7 or 8 years ago, when there was a big construction boom and several ultra-expensive resort hotels sprung up almost overnight. And this one was probably the largest and most expensive of all of them. It towered above the edge of the commercial district, a 30-some story edifice of stone and metal and glass in a regal design.</p><p>Luckily, my fears about the place being closed for the night were unfounded-- the lobby is still brightly lit, and in fact crowded; there seems to be some kind of party going on in the hotel’s massive ballroom.</p><p>“...We’re going to stay here?” Caster asks.</p><p>“Yep. If we’re going to be stuck away from home, we should at least stay somewhere worth staying. Plus I doubt anyone will think to look for us in a place like this. Can you prepare us a reservation?”</p><p>She nods.</p><p>“We’ll probably stand out a bit in the lobby though, with that party going on...”</p><p>“One moment.”</p><p>Caster mumbles under her breath, and, after a swirl of grey mist, she is wearing a sheer black evening dress. I look down at my self and realize that I too have changed, into a very expensive looking black suit and tie.</p><p>I whistle. I could get used to this.</p><p> </p><p>------------------</p><p> </p><p>The interior of the lobby is an absolutely massive expanse of marble, illuminated by chandeliers of crystal hanging from a gilded ceiling. We enter on a long, embroidered carpet which stretched from the doorway to the front desk at the other end of the enormous room. The walls are covered with expensive-looking pieces of artwork, and the room itself is dotted with sculptures in black marble: a deer, a dog, a raven, an alligator, a-- wait, is that a shark? Why would there be a shark in a hotel? That’s just ridiculous.</p><p> </p><p>Around the lobby are many small groups and couples standing around chatting, all in ornate, expensive dress. I attempt to put my arm in Caster’s, in order to look less conspicuous walking in together, but she shrugs me off with a glare-- I guess she’s still mad at me for something.</p><p> </p><p>We approach the front desk, and a tall, thin man wearing a suit emblazoned with the logo of the hotel approaches us.</p><p>“Mmmmyes?” He says, leaning down over the desk. “Hwat can I do for hyou.”</p><p>--Jesus. I didn’t think people with accents like that actually existed.</p><p>“We’d like our room, please.” Caster says, in a matter-of-fact voice.</p><p>“Hwell then, hrm, let us see hyour reservation, ma’am.”</p><p>Caster stares at the man for a moment, before saying, in a firm voice, “We have a reservation. Please put it in the system.”</p><p>The man blinks for a few seconds, his expression unmoving. Then, suddenly, he breaks into a smile.</p><p>“Ah, Mr. and Mrs. Pendergrast. Hwelcome, hwelcome. Hyour hroom is halready ready for hyou. It is on the fourteenth floor, hroom Fourteen Twenty Three.”</p><p>“Thank you,” Caster says, taking the keys which he hands across the desk to her.</p><p>--I’m surprised. I was expecting her to just fake money again, but from the looks of things she just hypnotized that guy or something. Sounds like she’s got more powers I don’t know about yet.</p><p> </p><p>We cross the lobby again to a row of massive gilded elevators, which we ride up in crowded silence, until we reach the fourteenth floor and our room. Caster unlocks it and I follow her in.</p><p> </p><p>--My jaw drops. This hotel room is bigger than my fucking apartment! Just the bed is practically the size of my entire bedroom! There’s what seems to be a small kitchenette to one side of the room, a seating area with couches next to a massive flat-screen TV, and a doorway into what seems to be a bathroom almost as large as this.</p><p>Caster, now back in her normal clothes, is already walking around the perimeter of the room, muttering under her breath and drawing strange glowing symbols into the air with her finger-- must be setting up some perimeter barriers again. I sigh and slump down onto one of the plush couches.</p><p> </p><p>...What a night. I have a sneaking suspicion that every night is going to be this crazy for a little while, unfortunately. Tomorrow we have to meet that girl... I suppose I should get some sleep while I can.</p><p>First, though, I should--</p><p> </p><p>Pick as many as you like, in order:</p><p>A) Look around the place more. It’s not often I get to stay in a place like this.<br/>B) Turn on the TV and see if there’s anything on the news.<br/>C) Discuss some plans with Caster.<br/>D) Ask Caster about what the girl was talking about before.<br/>E) Ask Caster about what she did to the man at the front desk<br/>F) Ask Caster what’s bothering her.<br/>G) Just go to bed.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0022"><h2>22. Chapter 22</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>Votes are mixed, let's go:</b>
</p><p>After finishing placing barrier seals around the room Caster comes over and sits lightly on the couch across from me. She seems to be ignoring me.</p><p>“...Alright, I give up,” I say, sighing.</p><p>“Hmmm?”</p><p>“...What’s wrong? What did I do?”</p><p>“You know what you did.”</p><p> </p><p>--Oh Jesus. It doesn’t matter if she’s your mom, your girlfriend, or your magical servant, when a woman says “you know what you did”, you’re fucked.</p><p> </p><p>I can’t give up though. “Look, if we’re going to finish this war together then--”</p><p>“Why did you decide to compromise with them?” she cuts me off.</p><p>Huh? Why? “Because there was no other choice? Once she summoned Saber to her there was really no way we could have fought them, you said so yourself--”</p><p>“I don’t care about that,” Caster says forcefully. “Why did you agree to cooperate with them?”</p><p>“Why? It seemed like that was the best option. This way we can get information out of Campbell--”</p><p>“Information?” Caster stands, her voice raised. “Will, this is the Holy Grail War. I did not make a contract with the Holy Grail so that I could get information. I did it so that I could win. And you know how you win the war? By defeating the other masters. Not cooperating with them. By beating their servants or killing them outright. This is a war, Will. I came to this time with the willingness to fight in it. I hope I was not summoned by a master who lacks it.”</p><p>--I’m stunned. I’ve seen Caster angry once before now, but this is the first time I’ve seen that fury aimed at me. But for some reason, that just makes me even angrier.</p><p>“You’re saying I lack the will to fight?”</p><p>“I’m saying you haven’t demonstrated it yet. You’re more concerned about finding out about this Campbell and your father than--”</p><p>“You’re damn right I am!”</p><p>I think I startled Caster with this outburst, because she is quiet for a moment.</p><p>“You think I have no stake in this war? I’ve been dreaming about the damn thing since I was ten years old. Since my dad disappeared. The father I spent years looking for, trying to find out what he was like, the one who was a total mystery until two days ago when I discovered that he and I were somehow related to this whole bullshit Grail War."</p><p>“So yes, I do want to find out about this Campbell. And I’m sorry if I’m not as single-minded towards victory as you want me to be.</p><p>“Because I do have a wish-- I want to know what in the hell is going on, and what I and my father have to do with it. And I’m willing to do what it takes to find out. Is that good enough for you?”</p><p>Without waiting for an answer, I slump back down on the couch, laying my head down on the armrest and deliberately not looking at Caster, who remains standing.</p><p> </p><p>“So you don’t care?” Caster says, quietly.</p><p> </p><p>“...Of course I care,” I reply. “If you’re my servant, then I’m obviously responsible for making sure you get your wish too. --I’ll fight to win this war. I just want to make sure that we’re fighting what we think we’re fighting before we do."</p><p>I take a deep breath.</p><p>“...And I’m sorry. Next time I’ll consult you before I do something like I did back there. After we finish this, those two will be our opponents again. And we’ll win. I promise.”</p><p>Caster is silent for a few moments. I just hope I said the right thing. I want to get along with her-- both because we’re stuck together in this crazy war, and because, well, it’s only been a short while but I do feel like I have a responsibility towards her. I don’t want her to stay mad at me, not when we’re working together like this.</p><p>“Will.” Caster speaks again, softly. “I am... sorry for doubting you.”</p><p>She sits back down on the couch across from me. I sit up and look over at her.</p><p>“It’s alright. I’ll admit I don’t always seem like the most reliable guy.” I try to sound nonchalant, but I feel like I just dodged a huge bullet.</p><p>Caster, to my surprise, smiles. “You’re getting better, at least.”</p><p>I grin. “I try.</p><p> </p><p>“So, now that that’s out there, I want to get your honest opinion. How should we go into tomorrow and Monday?”</p><p>Caster thinks for a moment. “...If we are going along with this plan, I will not suggest any offensive towards Saber and his master until after we are done cooperating, as much as I dislike the arrangement. I will, however, suggest that we be very wary in the event that they are less cooperative than we are.”</p><p>I nod. “We should be prepared to counterattack.”</p><p>“Exactly. During tomorrow’s meeting she is likely to have Saber in spirit form. I will remain hidden so as to be able to strike faster in case she attempts to attack you.”</p><p>“Do you really think she will?”</p><p>“She is a magus, Will, and a master as well. It is likely she is far more single-minded than either of us. Do not trust magi.”</p><p>--I wonder what Caster has against other Magi? Now’s not the time to press her on that though, so I move on.</p><p>“Alright, we’ll go with that. Then, another question. What do you think about whatever it was that that other master was talking about? The 6th Compact and that ‘Heaven’s Feel’ thing.”</p><p>“I do not know,” Caster replies. “When summoned, I am provided only what is necessary for understanding the basics of the current time period and the rules of the Grail War. I am assuming, though, that they have something to do with the conditions of this particular war.”</p><p>“That's what I though too. And that makes me nervous.”</p><p>“I as well. I have also noticed some abnormal things about this war-- we have yet to be approached by the Church’s mediator, and that girl did say something about other non-magi being provided with servants... I suppose we’ll find out from Campbell.”</p><p>“I guess so...”</p><p>I yawn loudly. I look at the clock on the wall... It’s already past three in the morning.</p><p>Caster notices my tiredness. “Perhaps you should get some sleep, Will. We can continue discussing all this in the morning.”</p><p>“In a minute, in a minute. I want to check something first.”</p><p>I grab a remote of the side table and turn on the television. Damn that thing is huge. Must be a 40-some inch. It only seems to have news channels though, the rest is all pay-per-view. I leave it on the news channel for a moment, maybe they’ll talk about a “Midnight fight at an apartment complex” or something. I hope not, I don’t want any reporters hanging around my apartment.</p><p>--No, nothing. Just another story about those mysterious murders downtown. I’m a little surprised to see that again, actually. They were a big deal for awhile, but they had stopped a few months ago and everyone just sort of assumed the guy had left town. Apparently they just started back up again-- another victim was found in the commercial district, his body drained of blood. They’re calling him the “vampire killer” or some thing like that.</p><p>Bullshit. They’ll do anything to get a story these days, won’t they? I turn off the TV and stumble over to the bed. “Alright, Caster, I’ll see you in the morning. You... do what ever it is you do to get rest, alright?”</p><p>She smiles. “Goodnight, Will.”</p><p>--Damn this bed is soft. As soon as I lay down I can already feel myself dropping into a deep, deep sleep...</p><p> </p><p>--------------------------</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>”...Witch.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“...Changeling.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“...Fey-child.”</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>--The people named her thus.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Her parentage was plain to see-- she was the daughter of a King, after all. But the people spoke differently.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“She’s a changeling, switched at birth.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“A Fey-queen, taken mortal form, she is.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Not of mortal born, that one. She shall not be Queen.”</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>She was only a child, then; she could not understand their whispers. She was just a child, the favorite of her mother, who loved to roam the forests and fields of their holdings, delighting in the natural beauty of the land around her.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Her father had understood, once. But her father was dead, and the man who married her mother cared more about other things then her. She was sent to a nunnery, the girl who loved the forests; locked up inside the cold stone walls of a convent to remove her from the eyes of the people who whispered.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>--She hated it there. But, in her innocence, she complied, and suffered in silence. And, for a while, the whispers ceased...</em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>---------------------------------<br/>Day 3 11/6<br/>---------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>--I awake to the light of mid-day streaming through the huge window on the side of the room. ...Why is that window so big? My window is tiny. And my bed isn’t this huge. Or soft. What--</p><p>Oh, right. We’re at a hotel. And by we, I mean me and Caster. The whole Holy Grail War thing. Right. I need to get things straight faster in the morning.</p><p>...What was that dream I was having? It was so vivid... but as I try to recall it, as dreams often do, it begins to slip away.</p><p>--Oh well, it was probably nothing.</p><p>I sit up and look around the room. It’s empty. Caster must have gone out to do... something, I guess.</p><p>I should--</p><p> </p><p>A) Shower. I probably smell like shit after everything that happened last night.<br/>B) Go looking for Caster. Where could she have gone?<br/>C) Get some breakfast. I’m starving.<br/>D) All of the above.</p><p>((Yes, this choice does matter.))</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0023"><h2>23. Chapter 23</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>A) Shower</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>I yawn and stretch. I guess I should shower and get on with my morning. I probably reek after all that crap last night, not to mention I fell asleep in my clothes again.</p><p>I walk down the short hallway that leads to the bathroom, stripping to my boxers. The bathroom is one of those ultra-modern, European deals, where the doorway is all thick opaque glass and metal on a hinge like a store’s and doesn’t lock, with a funky Japanese toilet, and the shower is just an alcove in a corner with a little glass--</p><p> </p><p>Which is why I pull open the door to see Caster, standing in the shower.</p><p> </p><p>--She stands, in the midst of the steam, her cream-white skin slick with water. As she turns, hearing the sound of the door, I can see the droplets tracing down the curve of her back and down across...</p><p>her...</p><p>
  <em>ass...</em>
</p><p> </p><p>--And then I feel myself hurtle backwards, down the hallway, and across the room. I hit the back of the couch with a hard thud and slide to the floor, dazed. A moment later, Caster hurries out, already clothed and drying her hair with a towel.</p><p>“Oh gods, are you alright, Will?” she says, hurrying over to where I lay. “I’m sorry, I just shot without thinking--”</p><p>“Yeah... I’m ok...” I pull myself to my feet. Damn, I’m lucky that couch was there, or else I would have gone into the TV. I stammer, “I’m sorry, that door doesn’t lock, I didn’t mean to...”</p><p>Caster sighs. “Don’t worry about it, I know it was an accident.” She walks back over to the sofa. “There’s breakfast food in the mini-fridge over there, if you want it.”</p><p>I sigh with relief. I was expecting that to be much more awkward than it was. I walk over to the fridge and look inside, and hear Caster’s voice:</p><p>--”Although once you walked in you didn’t make much effort to leave on your own. Learn a little subtlety if you’re going to be doing things like that, honestly.”</p><p>Never mind. So awkward.</p><p> </p><p>--------------------------</p><p> </p><p>I eat breakfast mostly in silence while Caster lounges on the couch nearby. After I finish, and take a short, hot, embarrassed shower of my own, I return to the main room.</p><p>“We do not have to meet the other master until tonight," says Caster. "What should we do today?”</p><p>I check my watch; its already almost eleven am. We should--</p><p> </p><p>A) Go out in the woods and practice. Even if I can’t learn any magic, I need to learn to shoot a bit better.<br/>B) Walk around the Commercial District-- maybe there’ll be something suspicious that will lead us to another master.<br/>C) Walk around the St. Martin’s campus-- maybe one of the other master’s is a student? It would be a good cover. It might be awkward if we run into some of my friends though...<br/>D) Stick around at the hotel. Hey, its a resort hotel, there’s plenty to do. We should relax before we have to fight again.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0024"><h2>24. Chapter 24</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>A) Go out in the woods and practice.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>“Well, there’s no point in wasting time, especially if we’re going to be confronting someone tomorrow. Could you help me train? I know you can’t teach me any magic, but I at least need to learn to use those pistols a bit better. I don’t know if I could have even hit that girl’s back before, my hand was shaking so bad.”</p><p>Caster smiles. “You seem enthusiastic today. I agree. I do not know firearms in particular, but I can at least give you some targets to shoot at.”</p><p> </p><p>----------------------</p><p> </p><p>We head back through the Commercial district into the park. It’s crowded today-- everyone is coming out hoping to see the crime scene from that murder last night, I guess. It was right in the middle of the district, so it took some time to work our way through all those people, but finally we arrive in the forest outside the park.</p><p> </p><p>We practice until the evening; her creating illusory targets, me attempting to shoot them.</p><p>--It’s a little disconcerting, really; she began with simple target-like illusions, but she gradually has increased their realism until I’m shooting at what seem to be actual people, who fall over and bleed when I hit them, who try to attack me with illusory guns and knives and magic. I know they’re not real, so they can’t harm me, but that doesn’t help my gut all that much. I guess it’s the best practice I can get, though. By the early evening I can already manage to hit most targets on a disabling spot at a sizable range with the help of the seeking spell.</p><p>Finally, around six pm, I tell Caster that I’ve had enough. “It’s getting late, plus I don’t want to use up all of our bullets just practicing.”</p><p>“Very well.” The last of the illusory men disappear and we are left alone in the clearing.</p><p>“Now what?” I ask.</p><p>“Well, it is getting time to--”</p><p>She stops speaking suddenly, her eyes going wide in the expression I’ve come to know as her expanding her senses outwards.</p><p>“There’s a servant nearby. Deeper into the woods, approximately 200 feet away, moving this direction. He does not seem to be aware of our presence. I detect no master. What do you wish to do?</p><p>Shit! We should--</p><p> </p><p>A) Tear down and leave. I don’t want to risk a confrontation with a servant we know nothing about.<br/>B) Investigate, without revealing our presence.<br/>C) Lay an ambush here in this clearing.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0025"><h2>25. Chapter 25</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>B) Investigate.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>“Caster, can you hide our presence here?”</p><p>“Of course.”</p><p>“Good. Let’s see who this new servant is.”</p><p>We move to the edge of the clearing and crouch by some trees. Caster says something under her breath and things take on that shadowy appearance that they did last time she used this illusion.</p><p>
  <em>”We are hidden, as well as the barriers that I had set up previously. Should we attack, or simply observe for now?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“For now, we observe. We don’t want to strike until we have more information."</em>
</p><p>We wait in silence as the servant draws closer. Suddenly, I see Caster’s brow wrinkle with puzzlement.</p><p>
  <em>”What? What is it?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“...This is odd. There are men around as well, normal men. About twenty, spread out along a line in the direction of the servant... they seem to be searching for something.”</em>
</p><p>What? I don’t know what to make of that, but it doesn’t sound good to say the least.</p><p> </p><p>As I’m thinking that, a figure emerges into the clearing.<em> ”Is that him?” </em>I ask. Caster nods.</p><p>The figure is of average height and build, but with a hint of lean muscle. His face is long, with a distinctly Asian cast to his features, his long hair, mustache, and goatee a ruddy shade of red.</p><p>What startles me, though, is his clothing-- he’s a servant, but he is clothed simply in a canvas jacket and pants. He appears to be unarmed-- but since he’s a servant I know that that doesn’t mean much. Despite his ordinary dress, his bearing seems to give off an aura of command.</p><p>He walks into the middle of the clearing and stands, for a minute, as if contemplating something.</p><p><em>”Someone approaches. Look.”</em> Caster points to one side of the field. A man dressed in what is obviously combat gear, complete with flak-vest and some sort of high-powered rifle exits the forest on the far side of the field and approaches the servant. He stops behind him and stands at attention. “Sir!”</p><p>“Report.” The servant says, without turning around. His voice is that of one who is used to being obeyed without question.</p><p>“No sign of the targets, sir. The readings we got have gone negative.”</p><p>“...I see. Continue the sweep. Take my guard with you; I will remain here alone for a moment.”</p><p>“Sir!” The man snaps to attention again before leaving the way he came.</p><p>The clearing is silent again. The servant in the middle stands stock still, unmoving. Caster and I wait patiently, unseen.</p><p> </p><p>--“Since I am alone,” the servant says, suddenly, “I shall do a little thinking out loud:</p><p> </p><p>“I suppose the ones who were here earlier have left already, but if they had not, they would probably be interested in knowing that they were walking into a trap.”</p><p> </p><p>I freeze. What’s this?</p><p>“It seems that Campbell is more knowledgeable than they might think he is. Perhaps they should be prepared to do more than bargaining with him. Whether or not they even have what he wants.”</p><p>He laughs, suddenly. “But I suppose this is a pointless discussion, seeing I am alone. A pity. I suppose when I meet them again we shall be enemies-- but I abhor shooting the messenger, as you would say. An ambush under the cover of negotiations goes against my ideals, what of them I have. This way, things would be more... fair.</p><p> </p><p>--“I will not have my victory any other way, after all.”</p><p> </p><p>Laughing, as suddenly as he came, he turns and walks out of the clearing in the direction of the man from before.</p><p> </p><p>After a moment Caster speaks.</p><p>
  <em>”...A servant who uses men like that... what kind of war is this?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I don’t get it either. How did he know we were here.?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“...It’s likely he is the Servant Archer, given his powers of detection. He knew we were here by detecting my wards earlier, and he knows enough about us to have deduced we were likely to be hiding nearby... his own powers seemed weak, but he is likely to be a formidable opponent.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“And he knows Campbell.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Yes. It is likely that his master is a member of this 6th Compact, although it seems that not all of its members support one another fully, if he would be willing to give away such information to us... If we can trust it.”</em>
</p><p> </p><p>---------------------------</p><p> </p><p>We leave the forest and re-enter the Commercial District, heading back to the hotel. Caster changes our clothing as we re-enter the lobby area, and we hurry across, not wanting to be late to our meeting in the park.</p><p>There appears to be some kind of commotion going on near the front desk-- a large number of people, hotel staff and what appear to be reporters are clustered around it. I wonder who is arriving?</p><p> </p><p>A) We should see who it is. Maybe it’s someone important?<br/>B) We should just return to our room, its probably not important to us right now, plus we need plenty of time to prepare for our meeting with the redheaded master.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0026"><h2>26. Chapter 26</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>A) See who it is.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Curious, Caster and I edge closer to the crowd of people. It’s pretty packed, though, so all I can see is a group surrounding what seems to be a tall man in a sharp, expensive black suit and tie.</p><p>He turns, and suddenly I know who it is. I mean, I’m a liberal arts major in a secluded college in the middle of nowhere and even I’ve heard of him.</p><p>Julius Clemenson. A tall, strong man, black with a shock of neatly trimmed white hair and beard, and a stony face that was recognizable anywhere. He’s been on the news off and on for years-- the guy must be in his mid seventies by now-- as one of the richest men in the country, after all. He made a fortune in something-- real estate maybe? I don’t even remember-- and since has become a major mover in big financial circles.</p><p>--In other words, he’s exactly the sort of person who wouldn’t be in a small out-of-the-way city like this.</p><p>“Gentlemen, please,” Clemenson speaks, his voice a deep resonant baritone. “As I said before, my doctor has recommended me some rest, and I had decided that I would visit this fine establishment that I helped found but had never actually visited--”</p><p>He pauses, and the reporters and staff are hanging on his every word. He’s obviously a master at handling a crowd like this.</p><p>“--I see that it was an extremely worthwhile investment.”</p><p>The staff relaxes into grins of pleasure, and the reporters and onlookers grin.</p><p>“And now, if you all would excuse me,” he says, “I would like to get started on that rest.”</p><p>He pulls a black cane from the counter and taps it on the ground. A man in a suit, some sort of assistant, comes from the crowd and along with several hotel staff members ushers him to an elevator, and he is gone. Another suited man stays behind explaining to reporters that yes, Mr. Clemenson arrived on last Thursday, and was planning on staying until sometime next week, and that no, he was not interested in interviews, he is here simply to rest and recuperate in order to keep up his health due to his age, and so on.</p><p>The crowd disperses. Caster and I return to our room.</p><p> </p><p>“Huh, I wonder what he’s doing here,” I think out loud as we enter.</p><p>“It is curious,” replies Caster, “that his arrival so neatly corresponds with the beginning of this war.”</p><p>“Wait, you don’t think he has something to do with this, do you?”</p><p>“...It’s possible, but unlikely. He is much too high-profile to be involved in magus dealings, not with the Association monitoring them so closely.”</p><p>After crossing to the mini-fridge to pull out some food (holy crap, they restock the fridge during the day? I love this hotel!) I sit back on the couch across from Caster. I look at my watch-- it’s 8:00.</p><p>“I guess we should be going soon,” I say.</p><p>“Yes,” Caster replies. She doesn’t seem to be as annoyed about the situation as she was last night, so that's good. “You are to meet her in the park at midnight. I will accompany you, of course, while remaining hidden-- Saber is likely to be with her in spirit form as well.”</p><p>“Hold on,” I say, remembering something. “You’ve mentioned this spirit form thing before. Is that different than your stealth?”</p><p>Caster frowns for a moment. “...Yes,” she says, finally. “Ordinarily, servants can become incorporeal at will, becoming invisible and undetectable by all non-magi and even most magi by sacrificing the ability to interact with the physical. It allows us to accompany our masters in ordinary life without seeming suspicious.”</p><p>“...Ordinarily?” I don’t like the sound of that word.</p><p>“...Unfortunately, I have found myself unable to enter spirit form. I am unable to determine the exact cause, but I believe it has to do with the rather haphazard nature of my summoning.”</p><p>Oh, so its my fault. Great. “Alright, never mind then. Your stealth is just as good-- actually, it’s better, since you can interact with things, right?”</p><p>“Correct.”</p><p>“Then we’ll go with that plan-- Alright, then there’s only one more thing.”</p><p>Caster nods. “What Archer told us in the forest.”</p><p>“Right. ...Do you think we can trust him?”</p><p>Caster sighs. “I do not know, Will. I do not see how making us aware of a trap could be a trap, so I am tempted to believe him, but I cannot see how him telling us would benefit him in any way.</p><p>“Maybe he was telling the truth, and just wanted to level the playing field.”</p><p>“It is possible... there is no way of telling for sure at this point. We can only be aware. The question is, now, should we tell... that girl about it?”</p><p>I hadn’t thought about that. We should--</p><p> </p><p>A) Tell her. We have no reason to keep it from them, and such knowledge would make us all more prepared, and maybe make her trust us more.<br/>B) Keep quiet about it, but make sure that we are prepared for such an ambush-- just warn her to be extra cautious of the possibility. Bringing up mysterious advice like that would just make her suspicious of us.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0027"><h2>27. Chapter 27</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>B) Keep quiet about it.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>“...No.”</p><p>Caster looks taken aback for a second. I smile. “Well, we can’t be giving away everything we know. Plus I doubt they’d even believe us, and that might even make them distrust us more. We’ll just warn them that there’s a high possibility of an ambush occurring and prepare accordingly.”</p><p>Caster nods, breaking into a grin. “An excellent thought. I’m glad you’re learning prudence.”</p><p> </p><p>--------------------------</p><p> </p><p>After discussing more contingencies we leave the hotel and head back through the commercial district towards the park at around the appointed time.</p><p>We enter the park area. Caster slips silently into total invisibility behind me.</p><p><em>“She’s up ahead, on that side trail,”</em> she whispers. <em>”Saber is with her in spirit form, and she’s already set up wards against being overheard... perhaps this girl is more competent than I thought.”</em></p><p>Seemingly alone, I walk up the trail.</p><p>Around the bend, hidden by a hedge, there’s a small circle of brick enclosed by hedges on almost all sides, with artfully constructed trellises covered in vines hanging overhead of wooden park benches-- the usual sort of shaded park hideaway, on pleasant days filled with park-goers sitting in the shade but empty now, on a winter’s midnight.</p><p>Well, not entirely empty. On one of the benches opposite me is the familiar figure of the redheaded master, dressed in the same simple, functional manner as before, sitting with a bored look on her face. As I enter, she gets to her feet.</p><p>“Finally,” she says. “I was half thinking you weren’t coming.”</p><p>“Hey, I’m on time, aren’t, I?” I reply, with a mock scoff. “Besides, I’m not the type to back out of a deal.”</p><p>She studies me for a second before sitting back down. “Well then, let’s not waste time; meeting like this is a dangerous gamble in this game.”</p><p>I nod.</p><p>“Down to business then. First up: when and where are you supposed to meet Campbell.”</p><p>“I’m not actually sure. I have his class tomorrow at 5:30, so I assumed we would work out a place to meet and exchange after then.”</p><p>She nods. “Alright, that could go either way then. If you can, be the one to suggest a time and location-- here in the park at night would be the best bet.</p><p>“That’s what we thought too, but I wonder if he’ll accept that.”</p><p>“Why not?”</p><p>I hesitate. “...Because I think this is a trap.”</p><p>“A trap?” She looks at me quizzically. “I mean, I assumed that was a possibility, but what makes you particularly sure?”</p><p>“Well... I dunno. If this Campbell guy is really a Magus, possibly a master, and he knows who I am, I’m afraid he’s likely to try to just take what he wants by force, with the help of this 6th Compact of his. I can’t see why he wouldn’t try to make this a trap. He has no reason to keep his word.”</p><p>The redheaded magus looks deep in thought. “Yes... that would be like him... but why would he have?... no wait...”</p><p>She mumbles to herself for a bit... I’m beginning to think that this is a normal thing for her. Does she realize that she does it? Either way, I decide to be polite and let her finish.</p><p> </p><p>“...Alright, we’ll be extra careful then. Let’s figure this out.”</p><p> </p><p>--------------------------</p><p> </p><p>We outline our plan thusly--</p><p>I am to go to wherever the meeting place ends up being. Caster, Saber and his master will arrive there several hours before hand and hide themselves using Caster’s magic (an idea she was not terribly happy with but which I insisted on.) When we arrive, I am to keep Campbell occupied until Caster can restrain him while Saber remains on alert for other servants, magi, or guards.</p><p>“After we secure him,” the redheaded magus finishes, “we’ll take him back to a secure location I have set up and question him.”</p><p>I nod.</p><p><em>Perfect,</em> I hear Caster’s voice whisper into my ear. <em>We may be able to find out her base of operations as well.</em></p><p>I cast a glance at the girl beside me, now turned around and conversing quietly with her own invisible heroic spirit.</p><p>--I suppose Caster is right. I have to keep thinking about her as a potential enemy. But still... she doesn’t seem that bad. If I met her in a class I’d probably think she was pretty cute.</p><p>“Alright, we’ll go with that.” She turns back around to face me. “Anything else, or are we done here?”</p><p>“Well, yea,” I say. “You never told me your name.”</p><p>She starts. “...My name?”</p><p>“Yea. You know mine, but I don’t know yours.”</p><p>She looks thoughtful for a moment.</p><p>“...Claire,” she says, finally. “Claire Drexler.”</p><p>“Alright, Claire,” I say, impulsively sticking out my hand. “Let’s make this work.”</p><p>She takes my hand and shakes it with a sudden nervousness. I guess it was sort of an awkward move on my part, but I had to do something, right?</p><p>Without saying anything else she turns and leaves the covered area and turns the corner back down the trail.</p><p> </p><p>In a few moments Caster re-materializes beside me. “Saber has left with her; we are now alone.”</p><p>I nod. Now that that’s done--</p><p> </p><p>A) We should head back to the hotel and rest. Tomorrow’s going to be crazy.<br/>B) We should do a little exploring around town and see if we can catch any other Masters and Servants out doing the same.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Status Screen Updated!</p><p><strong>Servant Saber</strong><br/>Master: Claire Drexler<br/>True Name-<br/>Sex- Male<br/>Alignment- Lawful Good</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0028"><h2>28. Chapter 28</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>A)Head back to the hotel and rest.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>We return to the hotel. It’s going to be a long day tomorrow, and we could both use the rest.</p><p>We cross the lobby, now completely empty save for its odd statues (that shark still creeps me out) and return to our room. Caster takes her normal place on the couch as I prepare to climb into the enormous bed.</p><p>“You know,” I say, after thinking about it, “you can sleep in the bed if you want.”</p><p>She raises an eyebrow, and I hastily say “no, I mean, I could take the couch, I feel bad making a girl stay on a couch like that--”</p><p>“I told you, Will, I don’t need sleep as you do,” she says, with a wry smile at my embarrassment. “I’ll be fine over here.”</p><p>“Err... right. Alright, goodnight then.”</p><p>I set the alarm by the bedside and climb in. --If this war has done nothing else it’s made me sleep better, because as soon as my head hits the pillow I fall fast asleep...</p><p> </p><p>---------------------------------<br/>Interlude 1<br/>---------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>“...I trust my payments are in order, then?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes. Please, follow me.”</p><p> </p><p>The man in the black suit motions towards the door behind him. The thin man follows him down a darkened hallway, the only light filtering through the massive glass window that makes up the wall to his left. Through it he can see the lights of the city laid out below them. On the other wall are many priceless works of art from many time periods, arrayed in a manner designed to show off just how rich their owner must be.</p><p>--But the thin man is unimpressed. He is obviously used to such luxury himself, as he ignores the ridiculous display of wealth around him.</p><p> </p><p>“In here, sir.”</p><p> </p><p>The suited man holds open a door. Through it is a darkened office, lit only by a small, ornate desk lamp and the moonlight from the large plate-glass window behind it.</p><p>In a tall-backed chair behind the desk sits a tall, pale man, his form cloaked in shadow and obscuring most of his features. The thin man suppresses a shiver. He’d met this man before, but every time he did so he realized that his very presence was somehow offputting.</p><p>“Yes?” he says simply, in a deep, resonant voice.</p><p>The thin man steps forward, drawing something out of his pocket. The man at the doorway stiffens, his hand reaching inside his jacket, but he relaxes when the thin man draws a thin, ornately backed card from his pocket and throws it onto the desk, where it slides, face up, towards its owner.</p><p> </p><p>--The card is labeled Caster.</p><p> </p><p>“Well?” says the thin man, with a hint of irritation in his voice. “Why doesn’t it work?”</p><p>“Excuse me?” says the man behind the desk, his voice betraying nothing but polite concern.</p><p>But the thin man will have none of it. “I payed you more money than most people would ever dream of seeing for this thing. I demand that you tell me why it won’t do anything. You better not be trying to rip me off, or I’ll--”</p><p>“Oh, it’s the real thing, don’t worry.” The man behind the desk laughs softly, leaving the thin man sputtering. He holds up his hand to silence him, and, bizarrely, the thin man quiets at his gesture. Standing, he puts his back to the thin man and gazes out the plate-glass window to his back out over the city.</p><p>“However... there has been a slight... issue, shall we say? I believe that you were provided with a list detailing the rules?</p><p>The thin man nods.</p><p>“Well then you should know that there can only be one of each servant summoned at once?"</p><p>The thin man nods again.</p><p>"It appears that, well, someone beat you to it.”</p><p>This sends the thin man back to sputtering. “What? But you said-- I paid for--”</p><p>“I apologize,” the man says unapologetically. “It was not my doing. It appears that this game of mine will not go as simply as I thought... but things seldom do in this world. No matter.”</p><p>He gestures vaguely towards the door. “Show this man out, please. I need time to think.”</p><p>“What-- you can’t just ignore me like that, god dammit!”</p><p>The thin man pushes the guard away and, enraged, lunges towards the man at the window, his fist outstretched--</p><p>--In a single fluid movement, faster than the eye can follow, the pale man spins around on his heel and drops to a crouch. As the thin man approaches, his arm lances out like a snake and strikes his chest</p><p> </p><p>and pierces him.</p><p> </p><p>The room is still for a moment. The body of the thin man slumps backwards, a neat hole punctured right in the center of his chest. The pale man stands and looks at his now-bloody suit-sleeve with a look of distaste.</p><p>“You know, I was going to let you live,” he says, to no one in particular, pulling a handkerchief out of his breast pocket and wiping the crimson fluid from his hand.</p><p>“Sir?” says the guard, watching impassively from the doorway. “Should I...?”</p><p>The pale man nods, sitting back behind his desk. “Yes, take it to the usual place.”</p><p>The guard walks to the door and calls in two more suited men, and the three pick up the body and carry it out.</p><p>And the pale man, now in silence again, returns to his thoughts...</p><p>---------------------------------</p><p>
  <em><br/>It was a cold winters day the first time he visited the convent.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>He was the man behind the king-- if she had been whispered of, the whispers of him were greater by a thousandfold. He was called a Sorcerer, the son of a demon, some said; or the Antichrist if his earthly mother hadn’t had him baptized. Others said he had lived as long as to have been an adviser to Caesar himself, and had seen the rise and fall of many an empire.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Whether or not the rumors were true, he was a man favored greatly by the king, and as such he had free reign to go anywhere in the kingdom.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Which was why he arrived at this small convent in the middle of the forest.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>--Where is the girl? He asked the Abbess. I wish to meet her.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>His request would have been refused, but they could not refuse this man. So they found the girl, still a child but approaching her womanhood.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>--She was frightened, then, of the aged man, tall and strong despite the years that showed upon his face. But she was a strong girl, and stood before him despite her fear, and he saw that she was worthy.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He knew her potential, then-- that she possessed the power to reach his own, or even surpass him, someday.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>So he taught her, there at the convent. The Abbess disapproved, of course, until she saw the change that his teaching brought to the girl. She grew to look forward to the old man’s monthly visits and the lessons he brought.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Soon, as the girl grew, she brought wide renown to the abbey, as a place of healing. The sick would come from miles around to meet the fair lady of the abbey, the holy woman who could heal the wounded and the diseased.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>--And she was happy, for a while. But, like in all too many stories, her happiness was not to last much longer...</em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>---------------------------------<br/>Day 4 11/7<br/>---------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>For the first time in the last few days I awaken before the afternoon to the sound of an unfamiliar alarm. I look over and the expensive digital alarm clock, currently playing a very sophisticated piece of classical music, is displaying 8:00 in big shiny numerals.</p><p>--I guess I have to go to class today. It feels like an age since I last thought about school, even though I was in class only 3 days ago.</p><p>I get up out of the bed and stumble to the shower, being careful to knock this time before entering. After a quick one to clear my head I get dressed-- I brought most of my clothes from my apartment, but I’m going to have to find a way to do laundry one of these days I suppose-- and head back to the main room, where Caster is still sitting in her customary spot, he eyes closed. I sit down on the other couch with a bowl of cereal in hand.</p><p>“Morning, Caster”</p><p>She opens her eyes. “Ah, Good morning, Will. Did you sleep well?”</p><p>“Yea, alright...” I vaguely remember some kind of dream, but I don’t mention it. Why did it seem so familiar? I shake my head. It’s not important, I guess.</p><p>I finish my cereal and stand. “Alright, I guess I have to actually go to class today.”</p><p>Caster nods. “Ordinarily I would have advised you not to attend, but in this case you need to be seen as behaving perfectly normally.”</p><p>“Right, since Campbell is watching me, and we can’t let him know we know that he knows... you know.”</p><p>Caster laughs lightly. “Yes, I know.”</p><p>I get my things from the corner where I had left them. I brought everything I would need for school-- laptop, books, notebooks-- from my apartment just in case. I load them into my bag.</p><p>“Alright,” I say, heading for the door. “I guess I’m off.”</p><p>“Yes,” says Caster, standing up. “We should be off.”</p><p>...</p><p>...Wait a minute.</p><p>I turn around to see Caster, whose clothing has already changed to her more casual set. “...We?”</p><p>Caster frowns. “...Yes? We have to go if you don’t want to be late.”</p><p>“That’s not the issue. The issue is the ‘we’ part. I have to go to class--”</p><p>“--And I have to accompany you. As a servant, I cannot leave my master unguarded.”</p><p>“But you just said that I had to look normal. I can’t do that with a strange girl following me around. Can you at least stay invisible?”</p><p>“Strange girl?” Caster gives me a withering look-- that was a bad choice of words on my part. “And I can’t stay invisible without either being easily detectable by Campbell or sacrificing my own powers of detection. The best choice, then, is to simply stay in disguise, and suppress my aura so as to appear a normal student.”</p><p>I sigh. I should--</p><p> </p><p>A) Relent. I guess I’ll just have to come up with some explanation.<br/>B) Agree she can follow, but make her stay invisible. The loss of detection is worth it.<br/>C) Refuse. She should wait here, I won’t get attacked at school.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0029"><h2>29. Chapter 29</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>A) Relent</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>I hang my head. “Fine, whatever. You win.”</p><p>Caster brightens. “Excellent! Well then, lets be off!”</p><p>She strides out the door. I follow her dejectedly.</p><p>...How am I going to explain this?</p><p> </p><p>-------------------</p><p> </p><p>We arrive on campus around 9:30. St. Martin’s is a small school, but it’s famous for its sprawling, landscaped campus; its ornate brick and stone buildings were surrounded in plantings, with tree-shaded brick pathways winding between them. The grounds before the academic buildings bustle with morning activity, as students (and professors) scramble to their classes.</p><p>Caster and I walk down one of the main paths towards the main hall, where I have my first class of the day-- it’s a gen ed. requirement, so it’s not in the History building like most of my classes. Caster, unsurprisingly I suppose, blends in rather well in her casual clothes, and she seems to be enjoying observing the campus and it’s students.</p><p>But, well, that wasn’t what I was worried about. It was more--</p><p> </p><p>“Will! Dude! Over here man!”</p><p> </p><p>--that.</p><p> </p><p>A male figure jogs over to us. He’s about my height, but with a slightly larger build than me; wearing faded jeans and a t-shirt, a bandanna holding back his wild, curly blonde hair.</p><p>--Andy Hunt. My freshman roommate and, well, I guess my friend.</p><p>“Will, man, what happened?” He makes it over to me and claps his hand on my shoulder. “Dude, did you just forget about the party this weekend? At my place? I’ve been telling you about it for weeks, bro, I thought you were stoked for it.”</p><p>“Um, yea... shit came up last minute, man, sorry about that.”</p><p>He laughs. “It’s cool, bro, its cool. But man, you missed a sweet party.”</p><p>Yea, he doesn’t seem like the type that I would normally hang out with, but in our freshman year we discovered that we had more in common than we thought. So we still get along pretty well. He lives in a nicer apartment over in the Apartment district, where most of the students live.</p><p>“Oh shit! I gotta tell you this-- You know Jane?”</p><p>“Jack’s old girlfriend?”</p><p>“Yea! So, she was at that party, right? Well, she got pretty wasted, and so did Bill and--”</p><p>“No way, did they--”</p><p>“Let me finish! They...”</p><p>--He trails off.</p><p>“...Andy? What’s up.”</p><p>I turn and follow his gaze to Caster, who is standing behind us with a very bemused expression on her face.</p><p>Ah. That.</p><p>“Dude.” Andy leans over conspiratorially and whispers. “...Who’s the chick?”</p><p>“Well, she’s--”</p><p>--my sister? No, Andy knows I don’t have one<br/>--cousin? No, she doesn’t look anything like me.</p><p>“--a friend,” I finish lamely. “She’s from out of town, and she wanted to visit the school, so I said I’d give her a tour.”</p><p> </p><p>Andy looks at me blankly for a second.</p><p>--then breaks out into a smile. “Dude, you gotta tell me these things, man!”</p><p>He turns to Caster. “Yo. I’m Andy, this guy’s best friend. Go easy on him, alright? He doesn’t know what he’s doing--”</p><p>“--at least I’ve never not remembered doing--”</p><p>“--Hey man, that was only that one time, and--”</p><p>“--one time? more like--”</p><p>Caster is barely containing her laughter as we bicker. “Nice to meet you, Andy,” she says. “I’m Cassandra.”</p><p>Wow, what a creative alias. Andy whistles. “Damn, even a hot name. You got any other hot friends you’re hiding from me, bro?”</p><p>I grin. “You think it’d make a difference if I did?”</p><p>“That hurts, man, that hurts.”</p><p> </p><p>--Just then, we hear the bell from the main building ring 9:30.</p><p>“Shit, man, we better get to class.” Luckily we were almost to the main building, so we make in there right after the bell stops.</p><p>Andy starts to hold the door for us but notices that I’m holding back with Caster. He shoots me an over-exaggerated wink.</p><p>“I’ll be inside, man. You two take your time.”</p><p>God. I turn to Caster, who is still stifling laughter. “You certainly keep interesting company,” she says.</p><p>“Just ignore him. Anyways, is it alright if you at least wait outside while I’m in class? You can walk around the building here; it would take too much explanation if you were to come into class with me.”</p><p>She nods. “That’s acceptable. I’ll be waiting for your return.”</p><p> </p><p>---------------</p><p> </p><p>Class passes by relatively uneventfully. Andy told some other friends of ours about Caster before I made it to class, so they picked at me about her for awhile, of course, but despite the misunderstanding it was bearable-- god knows I’ve done the same to them before, anyways. Caster, too, seemed to enjoy the attention, once we got out and they insisted on meeting her.</p><p> </p><p>Finally, after half-assing my way through the rest of my classes-- I hadn’t even done any of the homework I was supposed to over the weekend-- it was time for the last class of the day: Campbell’s.</p><p>The class passes by normally-- Campbell finishing his lecture on monomyths or whatever. I was barely paying attention, my mind too occupied with the things I now knew about Campbell, and waiting for some kind of sign from him as to what’s going to happen tonight.</p><p>Finally, it happens. At the end of class, he passes back a paper we wrote a few weeks ago. I flip mine to the last page to see my grade and see an extra note scrawled in pencil on the side:</p><p>
  <strong>--Meet me in the History lot tonight at 1 am. Bring the notebook, I have the information you want.</strong>
</p><p>...An empty parking lot, surrounded by trees, in the middle of the night. Nope, that sounds totally legit, and not at all like the perfect place to lay an ambush. But what choice do we have? At least we know what’s coming.</p><p> </p><p>---------------</p><p> </p><p>After class I relay this information to Caster. “You’re right, that’s an obvious place for an ambush,” she says. “We must be wary.”</p><p>I nod, and text the same info to the number Claire gave me. A minute later my phone beeps.</p><p>
  <strong>We'll meet you at the front gate at 10 it says.</strong>
</p><p>We still have a while before we’re supposed to meet up, then. What should we do until then?</p><p> </p><p>A) Go get dinner somewhere in town, then come back. We need to get some food anyways, might as well go all-out (especially since we don’t have to really pay.)<br/>B) Grab a quick bite and show Caster around the rest of campus. It’s a good tactical move, plus I can tell Caster’s interested in it.<br/>C) Go wait at the hotel. Best to stay out of sight.<br/>D) Go into the woods and train some more. Can’t have too much training!</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0030"><h2>30. Chapter 30</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>B) Show Caster around the rest of Campus.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>I close my phone.</p><p>“Alright, we’ve got a few hours until we have to meet up. Come on.”</p><p>Caster looks puzzled. “Come on where?”</p><p>“Well,” I say, “we don’t have anything better to do, so I might as well finish showing you around, right?</p><p>She brightens. “That would be...very courteous of you, Will.”</p><p>“Hey, don’t worry about it.” I try to hide my embarrassment at her rather frank reaction. “This way.”</p><p> </p><p>-----------------------</p><p> </p><p>We spend the next few hours wandering around campus, with me pointing out landmarks, sometimes stopping to talk with an acquaintance or professor along the way-- and occasionally discussing the tactical advantages and disadvantages of particular locations. I try to steer the conversation away from such things, though; it’s kind of nice to just talk to Caster normally, ignoring the concerns of the war.</p><p> </p><p>After awhile we end up at the Cafeteria on the south end of campus-- it was actually close to where we started, since most of the trails on campus lead in a big loop around the main building. I was starting to get hungry, so we decide to go inside and get something to eat.</p><p> </p><p>Only--</p><p> </p><p>“Will! Cassie! Over here!”</p><p> </p><p>As we walk in the door, we see Andy stand up from a table in the back corner and start calling out to us, waving his arms in an over-enthusiastic attempt to get our attention.</p><p>...Wonderful. Just wonderful. We’ve been spotted already, though, so I guess we don’t have much choice. After we get some food (shitty cafeteria pizza for me, a bowl of soup for her) we carry it over to the table where Andy and 2 other people sit-- Jack, a short, black haired guy who’s another friend of Andy and I; and Heather, a tall girl whom I don’t know very well but whose pants I think Andy is currently trying to get into. Caster and I sit down across from them at the table.</p><p> </p><p>“So this is Will’s ‘friend’ I was telling you about,” says Andy, putting much more emphasis on the word “friend” than I’m entirely comfortable with.</p><p>Caster nods politely. “Cassandra. Nice to meet you both.”</p><p>They nod back. “So, you’re from Will’s hometown then?” Jack asks. “Where are you going to school?”</p><p>“I’m not, currently,” Caster answers.</p><p>“Funny, you look like the type that would be,” says Andy, as blunt as always.</p><p>“I’m self taught, mostly. I’ve already finished my schooling,”</p><p>Andy blinks. “Whoa, an older woman then. Damn, Will.”</p><p>He leans forward intently. “So, how do you know Will, then? Why’d you come to visit him?”</p><p>I choke on my pizza. This could lead to misunderstandings of epic proportions. Caster is about to answer, I should--</p><p> </p><p>A) Play along with whatever Caster’s answer is.<br/>B) Interrupt with my own version of the story.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0031"><h2>31. Chapter 31</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>A) Let Caster answer.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>“Well, we’ve known each other since we were small,” Caster begins. “And I hadn’t seen him in a long time and I was curious as to the sort of place he was studying. So I decided to come visit for a bit.”</p><p>“Oh.” Andy looks almost dejected. “That’s all?”</p><p>“What else would there be?” replies Caster, taking up a spoonful of soup from her bowl.</p><p>“...Does a woman need another reason to visit her lover?”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>--The total silence that follows is punctuated only by the sound of Caster sipping serenely at her soup, as if nothing strange had just been said.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>...In all honesty, I should have expected her to come up with something like that, but the casual use of such an explicit term of endearment makes the whole thing sound so much more... serious, especially when they all know that the last time I had a girlfriend was the beginning of freshman year and they all know how well that one worked out and--</p><p>With a look of perfect serenity on his face, Andy extends his arm across the table to me, his hand in a fist.</p><p>“Will,” he says, his voice solemn, “I take back everything I’ve ever said about your luck with women. Props.”</p><p>I bump my fist against his with little enthusiasm. Just as suddenly, Andy brightens back up. “Well, come on, there’s gotta be a story behind this sudden revelation. Come on, you gotta tell us!”</p><p> </p><p>----------------</p><p> </p><p>--“So her family was friends with your father?”</p><p>It takes a heroic effort, but I manage to bullshit my way through a passable story with Caster’s help.</p><p>--”Yes, as I said before Will and I have known each other since we were small.”</p><p>At least now they don’t all think I have some kind of secret life as a Casanova or something.</p><p>--“So its a new thing, then?”</p><p>--“Yeah, we hadn’t talked in a long time, and she decided to visit, and, well, things just kinda happened.”</p><p>Not that that would necessarily be bad, but I’ve been the “snarky guy with bad luck with women” for so long that too big of a change would destroy my image completely. I’m the one who spreads rumors, I don’t need to have any spread about me.</p><p>--“Oh, so it’s THAT kind of story, huh?”</p><p>Really, though, did she have to go for the “childhood friend” thing? Sounds like something out of a bad anime or romantic comedy.</p><p>--“Man, you lucky little bastard. Sound like something out of a movie or something.”</p><p>Finally, after satisfying their expectations, I stand. “Well, we’ve got to get going,” I say, looking at my watch. “Sorry, give me a call next time something is going on at your place, ok?”</p><p>Andy looks disappointed. “Alright man-- hey, make sure you bring her with you!” he calls, as we walk out.</p><p> </p><p>----------------</p><p> </p><p>Outside it’s already dark. I check my watch again: 9:00. Still an hour until we’re supposed to meet. Behind me, Caster is laughing softly to herself.</p><p>“Ah, the looks on their faces,” she says, we stop, leaning against a stone wall near the meeting place. “Absolutely priceless.”</p><p>I sigh. Yeah, because its not your social life that’s going to get much more awkward in the near future. “You enjoy that sort of thing too much.”</p><p>“Oh? And why shouldn’t I enjoy it?” she replies playfully. “You didn’t seem to mind pretending that much.”</p><p>I look up at the newly darkened sky, barely illuminated by a sliver of moon. It’s a bit chilly out, but otherwise it’s a fine night.</p><p>Caster calms down and leans against the wall next to me.</p><p>“So I met you because of your father, hmmm?” she says, gazing upwards as I do.</p><p>“Well, that part might not be a lie at all. I mean, he had something to do with... all this.”</p><p>“And that’s what you want to find out?” she asks, more reservedly.</p><p>I nod. “Yeah. Its funny, I never really knew the guy, but now that I have a chance to find out about him it suddenly seems... more important, you know?”</p><p>“I understand. Family ties can be... strange, sometimes,” Caster replies distantly, without looking at me. “So you have no memories of him?”</p><p>“...Only a few,” I answer. “He wasn’t really around much when I was a kid. He was always running off to do who-knows-what and leaving me and my mom alone-- sometimes for months at a time he’d just vanish, barely even saying goodbye. That was why by the time we had realized he’d actually disappeared it was too late to find any traces of where he’d gone or been taken.</p><p>“My mom wouldn’t say anything against him, of course. She practically worshipped the man, despite the fact that he was only around 3 days out of 10. She still maintains that he was kidnapped, or worse... I used to think he just got tired of us and ran off, but now I’m not so sure...</p><p>“But, well...” I try to find the words. Caster is listening intently, a look of legitimate concern on her face. I continue. “The only time he ever did anything for me-- the only time I ever felt like he cared at all-- was when I was 6 years old.</p><p>“I had gotten sick, somehow. The doctors couldn’t figure out what it was, only that it was like my body was rebelling against itself and destroying itself from within-- some hereditary condition, they speculated. I was bedridden for weeks, and they finally told us that the only thing we could do was wait and see if I could get over it.</p><p>“And through all that, my Dad never went anywhere. It was the longest time he’d ever stayed put at the house. Sometimes he’d just watch me, or quietly take my temperature or change the ice on my forehead. Never said anything, just watched over me.</p><p>“And eventually, of course, I recovered. Things went back to normal, and then he vanished a few years later. But I still remember that... it was the only time he seemed to care what happened to me.”</p><p>I lapse into silence. Sheesh, what got me talking about this sort of thing? That’s not like me at all.</p><p>Caster speaks. “I’m sorry, Will. ...As you said you’d help me achieve my wish, I will be sure to help you find what you seek.”</p><p>“...Thanks, Caster... Caster?”</p><p> </p><p>Beside me, Caster has gone rigid, with the far-away look in her eyes that I’ve come to recognize as her scrying powers at work.</p><p>“A group of armed men have just arrived on campus. They are taking up positions in the area around the History building.”</p><p>So it’s starting already. “That’s the ambush, then. Any sign of the Servant?”</p><p>“Not yet. Campbell has not yet left the building either.”</p><p>“They’re setting up very early... these guys are obviously pros.”</p><p>“Yes. We should proceed with extreme caution-- we can probably assume that their weaponry has been enhanced beyond normal, and they may be setting up additional armaments or magical wards. My shields should still hold against them, but we should not rely on them for an extended period.”</p><p>I nod. Now we should--</p><p> </p><p>A) Investigate the men moving into position, to get a better idea of the layout of the ambush and what they’re planning.<br/>B) Lay low at the meeting area until Saber and Claire arrive-- best not to deviate from the plan.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0032"><h2>32. Chapter 32</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>A) Investigate</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>I turn to Caster. “They’ve got to be planning something in particular, or else they wouldn’t be getting into position this far in advance. Can you get us closer?”</p><p>Caster nods. She glances around, and seeing that we are alone, she says a quick phrase and the world takes on a familiar shadowy appearance; her clothing also becomes hazy and returns to its normal state.</p><p>“Alright. You can pinpoint their locations?”</p><p>“For now, yes-- but I’m beginning to detect some magical interference from the area. If we want to investigate, we’d best hurry.”</p><p> </p><p>----------------------</p><p> </p><p>We make it to the back of the History building. The lights over the parking lot had just turned on, casting a sickly yellow glow over the area.</p><p>”There are approximately 25 men spread around this parking lot, in the surrounding forest and on the roof of the building,” Caster says. ”They are armed with assault rifles, and the ones on the roof have large bore high-powered assault rifles-- possibly with explosive or armor piercing rounds.”</p><p>Damn. Either the grail gives more information on modern weaponry than I thought, or Caster really did her homework while we were in that gun store.</p><p>”Jesus. Can you show me where?”</p><p>Caster nods, and immediately I can see faint glowing outlines of human shapes in darkness around the lot.</p><p>--Magical thermal goggles? Awesome.</p><p>The men seem to be quietly busy with something in the darkness-- they are not bothering to completely hide themselves yet.</p><p>”What are they doing?”</p><p>“They seem to be the source of the interference... it must be a barrier of some sort, probably to protect this area from scrying or non-magical detection.”</p><p>“...meaning whatever happens here, no-one else will know about?”</p><p>“Yes. Which means they are likely expecting a fight... or they want to ensure an easy kill... be careful, Will.”</p><p>“I know... there doesn’t seem to be much else to see here. Let’s head to the front gate, its almost ten.”</p><p> </p><p>-------------------------</p><p> </p><p>We arrive at the front gate as the clock strikes ten. Claire is there already, leaning up against one of the stone columns which mark the entranceway. We become visible around the corner and approach, and when she catches sight of us she comes to meet us, Saber appearing beside her.</p><p>“...We may have to change our plans a bit,” I say as we reach each other. I explain the situation that Caster and I just saw.</p><p>Claire seems a bit annoyed that we went investigating on our own before she arrived, but she agrees that it was worthwhile. “Now we know what they’re planning, at least. --Sheesh, I heard Campbell was a spineless coward, but this is just too much. He probably planned to kill you as soon as he knew you had the notebook with you.”</p><p>Saber nods silently. “A cowards plan.”</p><p>“Regardless,” says Caster, “our plans should require minimal modification. Even if Campbell suspects Will is a master, he does not know of my capabilities nor does he know that we have another master and servant standing by. None of the men present had any armaments that could possibly harm us servants-- they are likely outfitted for master-killing in particular, and in their numbers most servants could not hope to block all their shots from hitting their master. Luckily my barriers can protect from all directions much more capably than most servants can block with their bodies, so even with their numbers you will be safe, Will.”</p><p>I nod. “Thanks, Caster.”</p><p>“I cannot, however,” she continues, ”guarantee your safety, Magus Drexler. I hope you understand, but my master is my top priority in these situations.”</p><p>Claire, to my surprise, nods. “I understand.” She looks at me. “Don’t worry; I’ve got protection of my own. Just worry about yourself.”</p><p>“And I shall still occupy any servants present?” inquires Saber.</p><p>“Yes,” Claire replies. Saber nods, satisfied.</p><p>“Alright.” I take out my bag and pull out the worn notebook that was to be our ‘Experimental Journal.’ “Let’s get down to business.”</p><p> </p><p>---------------------</p><p> </p><p>The clock on the main hall chimes 1AM. I’m walking towards the history building from the front gate. It’s pitch black, the only light coming from the lamps placed at intervals along the campus trails. The academic buildings are a ways off from the dorms and dining halls, and the History building is sort of tucked away in its own corner at the far end of campus, so by this time of night the area is completely deserted.</p><p>At my side, I can feel Caster’s presence break away from me as we reach the side of the building as she moves into her position at the edge of the field, to break a hole in the barrier which the soldiers had put into place to allow Saber and Claire to enter undetected. I am now alone, protected only by a thin, undetectable barrier which Caster had placed around me-- enough, she said, to protect me from a hail of gunfire for up to 4 seconds. By that point, she had said, I will have already made it to your side and be protecting you myself.</p><p>--I gulp. I trust Caster’s skills by now, but I still don’t feel safe walking into a trap like this.</p><p>No time to be nervous now. I round the corner of the building and approach the parking lot. Caster had already removed whatever craft had made me able to see the soldiers surrounding it, but I could still somehow feel their presence, making the large open lot seem claustrophobic, like a cage or a net about to descend upon me.</p><p> </p><p>In the middle of the lot, in the sickly yellow glow of the streetlamp above, is Campbell, leaning against an old beat-up sedan that I assume to be his. It’s the only car in the lot. I start to approach.</p><p>--and I notice something else. I couldn’t see him before, hidden in the shadow cast by the car, but next to Campbell is what appears to be a young boy-- can’t be more than ten or eleven years old-- dressed simply in jeans and a green jacket, his brown hair short and messy on his head.</p><p>Campbell sees me approach. “Ah, Will, excellent! You’re just on time!” he exclaims.</p><p>This isn’t what I was expecting!</p><p> </p><p>A) I should just stick with the plan. I can’t just deviate now when everyone else has already begun their parts. I’ll just ignore the kid completely.<br/>B) What the hell is that kid doing here? This is suspicious, he could even be a servant or something, we should bail before shit goes down.<br/>C) What the hell is that kid doing here? I need to find out what’s going on before I go any further. Maybe I can get Campbell to give me some idea; its odd enough that it shouldn’t be weird if I bring it up.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0033"><h2>33. Chapter 33</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>C) Bring it up.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>I stop a short ways away from the where Campbell and the boy lean. Time to turn on the act.</p><p>“Campbell.” I say, in a clipped, annoyed voice. “You didn’t say anything about any... spectators in your note.”</p><p>“Ahahaha...” Campbell laughs nervously, in what I assume is an attempt to sound nonchalant. “This boy is just the child of an associate of mine, I’m supposed to be watching him for a few days while he’s at a conference, and--”</p><p>“Please, Campbell, don’t insult my intelligence like that.” Forceful worked before, hopefully it’ll work again. “It’s after midnight, hardly a time when you would just take a child along with you for a drive. Who is this boy, and why did you bring him with you?”</p><p>Campbell seizes up for a moment, then as before regains his composure in a rush. “Ah, Will, yes, you are quite astute. This boy is... an associate of mine, shall we say, here as a witness to our exchange, to ensure a degree of... fairness, shall we say? I hope that that is acceptable.”</p><p>I glance over at the kid-- he just stares at me with a blank look on his face, then gives me a slow nod, as if to confirm what Campbell has just said.</p><p>Well, not much I can say to that. I nod back. “Alright.”</p><p> </p><p>--I reach into my bag and pull out the ‘journal’ --I can see Campbell’s eyes light up greedily at the sight of it. I flourish it in front of me.</p><p>“The journal. Also, in this bag at my side is a collection of other papers.”</p><p>“Excellent, excellent. Now then...” Campbell reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a CD in a blank case. “This contains the information that I have on your father-- truly a fortunate trade we’re making, as it will give us each the knowledge the we lack about... Cooper.”</p><p>I nod. “Then let’s trade.”</p><p>I take the bag off and, placing the notebook inside it, walk forward towards Campbell with it outstretched. Campbell follows suit, holding the CD out in his other hand. The boy watches from off to the side in the shadow of the car, unmoving.</p><p>We reach each other. Campbell grabs the straps of the bag and pulls them from me, I reach out to grab the CD case as he releases it from his hand and hear--</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Will! Don’t touch that, it’s--</em>
</p><p> </p><p>--before I see a bright flash and am knocked backwards by a blast of concussive force that sends flying backwards almost five yards, landing hard on my ass against the pavement. Campbell is standing, holding the bag in his hands, with a totally different expression on his face than I’ve ever seen before-- a cool, restrained look of abject rage.</p><p>“So I was right after all,” he snarls. “That’s enough of this. Fire!”</p><p>I brace myself for the oncoming hail of gunfire--</p><p>Wait for it--</p><p>Wait for it--</p><p>What?</p><p>Campbell is bearing down on the little boy, a look of anger and confusion on his face. “Dammit, Jack, I told you to have Archer fire! You littl--”</p><p>A single shot rings out across the lot, the bullet ricocheting off a spot several inches in front of Campbell’s foot. A figure emerges from the woods nearby, a long rifle held out at the ready in front of him-- I recognize him immediately as the servant we met in the woods. Archer.</p><p>“I would advise against advancing on my master like that.” he says, his sights never leaving the man. Around him, the men formerly waiting in the woods come out, their guns trained on both Campbell and me. I feel Caster’s presence come up beside me.</p><p>Campbell is raging at the boy. “What is this? What is this? A betrayal? You’re betraying the 6th Compact, after all we’ve done for you, after--”</p><p>“A tactical decision,” says Archer, and Campbell rounds on him, but is stopped by the sight of the weaponry arrayed against him. “You had something we wanted. Now you are no longer necessary.”</p><p>Campbell is frozen. There’s nothing he can do against that show of force. This two-way ambush has very quickly turned into a tree-way standoff. So much for the plan.</p><p>Caster is waiting beside me, and Claire and Saber are ready to move whenever Caster gives the signal.</p><p> </p><p>A) We’re in way over our heads. We need to cut our losses and run, and let Archer do what he wants with Campbell.<br/>B) We can’t let Archer take Campbell-- we should attack now, seize him, and make our getaway.<br/>C) We should wait until someone else makes a move, and grab Campbell during the confusion that follows.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0034"><h2>34. Chapter 34</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>B) Attack now</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>We can’t back out now! We’ve got to get Campbell or this whole thing will have been pointless!</p><p>“Now, Caster!”</p><p>I cover my eyes as I was instructed just in time-- I can see the light through even my covered eyelids as the enchantment placed on the notebook goes off at Caster’s command. When I open them again I see Campbell slumped to the ground in front of us, his body magically locked up by Caster’s enchantment; and Archer looking on in confusion, the men surrounding us blinking wildly with confusion and pain. Caster is still speaking, and as I watch the air around the lot seems to darken, as if all the light in the area is being sucked inwards towards the source of the bright light. After a few seconds even the light of the streetlights go out and the area is thrown into darkness.</p><p>But Caster is already in the air, still speaking in a rush of eldritch syllables as a hazy interlocking barrier of light surrounds me. Despite the illusory darkness I find that I can still see well enough to pick out people and objects-- Caster must have made the darkness illusion subjective. It seems to be enough to confuse the surrounding men, but not Archer, who as a servant must be resistant to such obvious illusions. He turns to us and raises his gun--</p><p>--But is stopped by a crashing sound as Saber emerges in a rush from the woods, taking out a whole group of soldiers in his charge towards Archer, sword drawn, an ancient battle cry on his lips.</p><p>Archer leaps backwards and fires, but the bullets simply ricochet off of Saber’s armor. Saber springs forwards faster than my eyes can follow, but Archer is even faster, and is already behind Saber before he reaches him, firing again and again, but still doing no harm to Saber himself.</p><p>He raises his hands in the air and four shots ring out from behind me-- the snipers on the roof! An instant later four shells impact almost simultaneously on the back of Saber’s head. The shots don’t seem to wound him, but the force of the impacts are great enough to knock him forward as he moves, sending him sprawling forward. He catches himself at the last instant, but Archer is already on top of him, his rifle to the back of Saber’s neck.</p><p>Archer’s shot rings out, accompanied by a flash of light which seems greater than the normal muzzle flash of a gunshot. He waits for Saber to slump forward, but--</p><p>“I see. Your firearms may be more powerful than ordinary, but they are hardly enough to wound me."</p><p>Underneath the muzzle lies still unbroken skin, marred only by the broken remains of a shell. Saber springs up in a flash, knocking Archer backwards, who rights himself in midair and lands a few yards away. He clicks his teeth.</p><p>“Men, to me,” he calls, and the soldiers spread around the field begin to tighten their ring around us, weapons at the ready.</p><p>I take stock of my surroundings. I don’t know whether or not the approaching soldiers are powerful enough to do any more damage to Saber or Caster, but in their number they’ll easily be damaging to Campbell. The new barrier that Caster has placed on me is powerful enough to take sustained gunfire for a minute or two, so I’m safe for now. Claire has hopefully disabled the men on the roof by this point. Over by the car, the boy is crouching by a wheel, looking absolutely terrified. Is he really Archer’s master? If so, who is the one doing the controlling here? He doesn’t seem to be very implicit in what’s going on, and without protection he’s likely to get hit by stray gunfire in the darkness.</p><p>It’s time for me to make a move:</p><p> </p><p>A) Send Caster to help Saber take down Archer and his men; I’ll go secure Campbell myself.<br/>
B) Send Caster to secure Campbell, I’ll go protect that boy-- whether or not he’s a master, I can’t just let a 10 year old boy get killed.<br/>
C) Go with Caster and secure Campbell.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Status Screen Updated!</p><p><strong>Servant Caster</strong><br/>Master- William Cooper<br/>True Name-<br/>Sex- Female<br/>Height/Weight- 163cm 48kg<br/>Alignment- Neutral</p><p>Skills:<br/>High Speed Divine Language: Through her time spent in Arcadia, Caster is as much a fey as she is human. Because of this, the Fey taught Caster to speak the language of magic itself.</p><p> </p><p><strong>Servant Archer</strong><br/>Master- Jack ?????<br/>True Name-<br/>Sex- Male<br/>Alignment- Neutral Good</p><p>Strength- C<br/>Endurance- D<br/>Agility- B<br/>Magic- C<br/>Luck- A<br/>Noble Phantasm: B</p><p> </p><p>Class Abilities-<br/>Independent Action: C<br/>Magic Resistance: D</p><p>Skills:<br/>Riding: A - Although Archers usually don’t ride, this Archer is a special case, having been a primarily mounted archer.</p><p>Adaptability: A+ - Archer has a gift for understanding new weapons and technology and their potential tactical use. He can use any weapon or technology that can be used in a military context with full proficiency, as well as know all possible tactical applications for said technology, simply by viewing them. This includes magical weapons and Noble Phantasms (although this does not allow him to use Noble Phantasms that can only be used by a particular person.)</p><p>Charisma: A - the ability to command troops. Archer’s ability is so high that men under him are totally fearless, willing to follow him even into death.</p><p>Noble Phantasm: Currently Unknown.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0035"><h2>35. Chapter 35</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>B) Protect the Boy</strong>
</p><p>“Caster, go get Campbell!”</p><p>I start running towards the car, the swirling barrier around me.</p><p>“What? Will!”</p><p>“Just do it!” I call back. I’m almost to the side of the car when the bullets start flying. I leap, covering the last of the distance just in time and colliding with the side of the car next to the kid, barely fitting him inside the diameter of the barrier.</p><p>I pant, looking down at him beside me. “It’s alright, kid, I got ya.”</p><p>The kid looks up at me, that same blank expression on his face.</p><p>“...What?” I’m confused. “What is it?”</p><p>The boy just shakes his head sadly, and moves his arm quickly from under his jacket.</p><p> </p><p>--I feel a sudden pain in my side. I look down in disbelief, my mind taking a second to register what I see.</p><p> </p><p>...There’s a small but sharp knife sticking out of my ribs. There’s a hand holding the knife. The hand is attached to the boy. The boy I was supposed to be saving.</p><p> </p><p>“What... the... hell...”</p><p> </p><p>I can feel a numbness spreading from the wound through my body-- poison? It must be. My vision is starting to go foggy. I can’t think about it any more. I begin to slump sideways. As my vision fades to black, I can barely make out Caster rushing towards me.</p><p> </p><p>...Sorry, Caster. It doesn’t look like I'm going to make it... take care of the kid for me, will you?</p><p> </p><p>I fall.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>DEAD END</strong>
</p><p>------------------</p><p> </p><p>“...Dude, wake up. Dude.”</p><p>Something shakes me roughly.</p><p>--Just five more minutes, come on.</p><p>"Wake up bro! Come on!"</p><p>Something shakes me again.</p><p>--Fine, Christ. I manage to open my eyes.</p><p>I’m laying on a desk. Again.</p><p>“Sheesh, man, no sleeping in class."</p><p>“...Andy? What the fuck are you doing here?” I ask groggily, sitting up and yawning.</p><p>“Hell if I know,” he replies, taking a seat at the desk next to me. “But I do know you shouldn’t sleep in class, bro. Gotta pay attention when the teacher gets here.”</p><p>...This doesn’t make any sense. I feel like I remember something like this happening before, but exactly what it was escapes me. I glance over at Andy and am surprised to see another figure seated down the row from us.</p><p>“...Claire?”</p><p>She turns to face me. “Oh, good, you finally decided to wake up,” she says sardonically.</p><p>Yea, that’s Claire. Only... she’s dressed differently.</p><p> </p><p>Skirt? Check.</p><p>High socks? Check.</p><p>Sailor top? Check.</p><p>--Yup, that’s a schoolgirl outfit alright.</p><p> </p><p>“Umm... Claire? Why are you--”</p><p> </p><p>”Don’t. Say. It.” she replies angrily, just as the classroom door opens and Caster enters, again dressed in a schoolteacher outfit.</p><p>“Alright class, settle down,” she says, taking her place at the podium in front of the class.</p><p>“Settle down?” Claire exclaims, standing up from her chair, blushing furiously. “What’s going on here, Caster? Why do I have to be in this scene, anyways? And why am I the only one in a school uniform?”</p><p>Caster shrugs. “Don’t ask me. Fanservice, perhaps?”</p><p>“F-- FANSERVICE?” Claire sputters. “But-- but this is a purely text-based story! That doesn’t even make any sense!”</p><p>“Don’t ask me, I’m not the author. Now stop interrupting the lesson.”</p><p> </p><p>She walks over to me. “Now, what have we learned this time?”</p><p>I think back. “Well, I guess I should have been more careful about that kid...”</p><p>“Exactly!” says Caster. “You heard he was a Master, and yet you ran in so quickly? Just because you managed to work with Claire doesn’t mean that all Masters are going to be so quick to cooperate because you do something stupidly heroic.”</p><p>“Yeah, man,” says Andy. “The only reason it worked so easily with Claire is because she’s a main heroine.”</p><p>“What?” says Claire, getting up from her chair again. “Wait, are you telling me I’m supposed to--”</p><p>Caster raps her ruler on the desk in front of me. “Settle down, class, settle down.</p><p>“What Andy said is correct. There are ways to get other masters and servants on your side, but not being cautious around them in battle is not the way to do so.”</p><p>I nod. “Alright. I won’t make that mistake again.”</p><p>“Good. Then get back out there and try not to end up here again any time soon.”</p><p>As before, the classroom around me starts to spin and get hazier and hazier. As I drop back into darkness, I can hear Claire and Andy talking...</p><p> </p><p>”So are we supposed to be the mascot characters now or something?”</p><p>“Nah, man, I don’t think they’ve shown up yet.”</p><p> </p><p>“They?”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, you see--”</p><p> </p><p>--And I drop back into the world...</p><p> </p><p>------------------</p><p> </p><p>I take stock of my surroundings. I don’t know whether or not the approaching soldiers are powerful enough to do any more damage to Saber or Caster, but in their number they’ll easily be damaging to Campbell. The new barrier that Caster has placed on me is powerful enough to take sustained gunfire for a minute or two, so I’m safe for now. Claire has hopefully disabled the men on the roof by this point. Over by the car, the boy is crouching by a wheel, looking absolutely terrified. Is he really Archer’s master? If so, who is the one doing the controlling here? He doesn’t seem to be very implicit in what’s going on, and without protection he’s likely to get hit by stray gunfire in the darkness.</p><p>It’s time for me to make a move:</p><p> </p><p>A) Send Caster to help Saber take down Archer and his men; I’ll go secure Campbell myself.<br/>B) Send Caster to secure Campbell, I’ll go protect that boy-- whether or not he’s a master, I can’t just let a 10 year old boy get killed.<br/>C) Go with Caster and secure Campbell.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0036"><h2>36. Chapter 36</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>A) Send Caster; secure Campbell.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>“Caster,” I call. “Keep Archer busy!”</p><p>“Got it!” Caster calls back.</p><p>I sprint towards Campbell, laying sprawled on the pavement near his car. I just have to make it over there before the men start shooting.</p><p>I hear Caster chanting behind me in her incomprehensible tongue, and the ground around us starts to shake, increasing in magnitude by the second. Complex arcane sigils begin appearing at routine intervals surrounding us in the center of the lot. The earth in each sigil begins to crack and warp, and from the cracked pavement the earth below thrusts upwards and with a simultaneous roar twenty-some shambling humanoid shapes of earth and rock emerge, their eyes black pits of stone, their fists balls of cracked asphalt.</p><p> </p><p>--Elementals.</p><p> </p><p>Roaring with inhuman sounds they rush outward towards the soldiers, who open fire on them as they approach-- but their bullets only tear of bits and pieces of soil and rock, without as much as slowing down the hulking beasts. They bear down on them, swinging their stone fists and sending men flying as Caster, her body aglow with eldritch fire, lifts into the air, her cloak spread open about her, and flies towards Archer and Saber, speaking in a steady stream of arcane wording.</p><p> </p><p>--I quickly shake myself from my awe. I have work to do as well.</p><p> </p><p>I reach Campbell, grabbing the bag with the fake papers and pulling out the rope that I had stashed in there earlier and begin tying up the limp Campbell’s hands and feet. He doesn’t resist-- his eyes are rolled back in his head and his mouth is open and drooling. I try to avoid getting any on me while I gag him. He should stay like this long enough for us to get him to a safe place for questioning, but I don’t want to take the risk of him waking up and making a racket.</p><p>As I finish tying him, I hear someone approaching from behind me. I turn to see Claire running back across the lot. A series of greenish lines are glowing up and down her arm, and I remember seeing it do that before when she was attacking Caster.</p><p>“Finished,” she says when she reaches me. “Let’s get out of here.”</p><p> </p><p>--But I can’t carry Campbell alone, and Saber and Caster seem to still be occupied...</p><p> </p><p>At the other end of the lot, Saber and Caster, along with Caster’s elementals, have Archer and a knot of his men surrounded. Saber steps forward, his sword held out at the ready.</p><p>“Your little ploy has failed you, servant Archer.” He mocks. “Whatever made you believe that mere mortals could match us? You yourself should know that. Or are you simply not enough of a hero yourself?”</p><p> </p><p>But Archer just breaks out in a smile. “Impressive,” he says, simply. “A two-servant attack was not within my calculations. But I fear you underestimate just how powerful soldiers can be.”</p><p>He raises his fist to the sky and speaks-- “Extraction Team.”</p><p> </p><p>Something flares in the forest a ways behind me. That’s impossible, we didn’t notice anyone there before! A black shape ricochets of my barrier and hits the car in front of us.</p><p>--It explodes in a massive ball of fire that knocks Claire, Campbell and I backwards. The heat is intense, and bits of shrapnel rebound of my barrier, which is beginning to flicker and fracture under the force. A series of such explosions rocks the area around Archer. Caster throws up a barrier to defend herself, and during that momentary lapse in concentration a huge shape comes barreling through the circle of Elementals, sending some flying.</p><p>Jesus, is that what I think it is? Some sort of armored car has burst into the middle of the circle, with a man on top manning some sort of rocket launcher mounted to the top.</p><p>--This is insane. Where are they getting this kind of artillery? Before I can even react two more come screeching in from the other entrances to the lot, one coming to a stop almost directly in front of Claire and I. The man in the top aims his guns down at us-- I don’t think the barrier can take much more damage--</p><p> </p><p>In an instant, Caster appears in front of me, projecting a barrier that bats away the projectile, and with an angry gesture she sends bolt of light from her fingertips that neatly decapitates the gunner.</p><p>I see a group of men out of the corner of my eye run over and scoop up the boy, who had taken shelter by a tall curb, and bring him back to the armored car. Damn! So that was their goal. It roars out, the headless body of the gunner flying out loosely and landing on the ground behind it. I suppress my revulsion and turn to see Saber pursuing the last armored car as it speeds away. Archer must already be inside.</p><p>Claire grits her teeth beside me. “Damn! What now?”</p><p>I say we--</p><p> </p><p>A) Go after them! We’re easily more powerful, and if nothing else we can find out where they’re going.<br/>B) Let them go. We have what we came for already. Lets take care of Campbell and worry about Archer some other time.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0037"><h2>37. Chapter 37</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>B) Let them go</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>“...Claire, call off Saber. Just let them go.”</p><p>Claire sighs. “You’re probably right. Saber!”</p><p>Saber reluctantly slows to a stop as the last armored car speeds off.</p><p> </p><p>“Damn.” I look down at Campbell, a bit bruised but still alive at least, still in a stupor. I look back up at Claire. “So where are we taking him?”</p><p>“Back to my place. It’s the safest and most private place we’ve got about now.” She stalks over to where the corpse of the soldier fell nearby. “Damnit, we were so close too! We could have--”</p><p>She stops, suddenly. “...Will. Caster. You might want to see this.”</p><p>Curiously, we approach.</p><p>Where the soldier fell we can see a suit of very advanced body armor-- not something futuristic, but certainly the best that current money can buy. Very sophisticated sidearms and electronics are strapped to the belt and vest, and the helmet laying nearby seems to have sophisticated readouts and communications built-in. Emblazoned in gold on the breast and shoulder of the uniform is what appears to be a stylized horse in mid-gallop.</p><p>--What we cannot find, however, is a corpse. The uniform and helmet are completely empty.</p><p> </p><p>“Some sort of magical soldier?”</p><p>“Impossible.” Claire is thinking. “Only a Caster should have the power to summon familiars or soldiers.”</p><p>“Not necessarily,” responds Caster. “It could be related to his noble phantasm.”</p><p>“Could just be a minor magecraft to hide against corpses being discovered, right?” I say.</p><p>Claire nods. “That could be it as well. We probably shouldn’t make any assumptions at this point, other than that his soldiers have some kind of magecraft ability. Perhaps some are magi themselves-- it would explain how they could hide the presence of those APCs.”</p><p>As we turn back towards Campbell Saber reaches us.</p><p>“I am beginning to tire of interrupted combat,” he says, irritably sheathing his sword.</p><p>“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Claire replies, sounding just as irritated. “You’ll have your chance. Now carry Campbell. We have to move quickly, before any other compact members get here.”</p><p> </p><p>----------------------</p><p> </p><p>We move back through the city. Caster’s invisibility keeping us from the few prying eyes remaining at this late hour. Claire leads the way, up past campus to the normal Residential district, where most of the students and professors live in houses or modest apartments.</p><p>Finally, we reach a massive iron gate, set into a tall brick fence. “In here,” Claire says, typing in a number on a keypad.</p><p>“Here?” I say, shocked. “You live in Golden Terrace?”</p><p>“Yea, why?” She presses the last key and, with a clack, the gate swings open.</p><p> </p><p>--Golden Terrace. An apartment complex built in that rush of expensive building that occurred a few years back-- the same time as the Hotel Règle d'Or. It’s the most luxurious complex in the city, populated almost entirely by the children of the ultra-rich whose grandparents have buildings named after them at St. Martins-- and there are a lot of them, so I guess that it was a worthwhile investment for whoever built them, but for the average student, Golden Terrace is like some sort of untouchable palace of riches which we can never enter. The rich kid tend to hang out amongst themselves, so its not like any of us ever can go inside.</p><p> </p><p>But here I am, about to enter. I’m a little excited, actually. I heard once that a months rent at one of these is about the same as my rent for a year-- and I believe it too, as we go in the front door of one of the two massive buildings and enter an ornate glass and gold elevator. The buttons are labeled with room numbers rather than floors, and Clare inserts a card-key into a slot and presses one to make the elevator speed upwards.</p><p>“Jesus,” I say quietly.</p><p>“What?” says Claire, noticing my disbelief. “It’s not like I’m paying for it.”</p><p>The door opens directly into the largest, richest apartment I’ve ever seen-- its larger than even the hotel room Caster and I have been staying in, furnished in plush, modern furniture, a full kitchen in one corner and a doorway leading into what looks like a massive bedroom and bathroom on the other, with a huge flatscreen TV and everything.</p><p> </p><p>--Unfortunately, the effect is spoiled by the fact that it’s also the messiest apartment I’ve ever seen. The couches, tables, and floor are covered in books, bags, and papers, covered in cramped handwriting and scrawled occult symbology, as well as random baubles, jewels, pendants and the like of what seem to be an occult nature. --Obviously, this magus has her own ...particular method of organization.</p><p> </p><p>Saber walks to the couch and unceremoniously dumps Campbell in a roughly sitting position before plopping himself down on the adjacent couch. The rest of us enter behind him, the elevator doors closing behind us. Caster is looking at the mess around her with a bemused look on her face as she carefully steps over the junk on the floor. Claire is either ignoring her deliberately or just isn’t paying attention.</p><p>“Alright, Caster,” she says, walking over to Campbell. “Let’s not waste any time. Can you get him to talk?”</p><p>“Of course.” Caster moves over in front of Campbell. I take a seat nearby, opposite from Saber, who is sitting sprawled out with a disinterested look on his face.</p><p>Caster bends down, staring into Campbell’s eyes. As I watch, her eyes begin to change to a light, ephemeral green.</p><p>Campbell’s body stiffens, then relaxes, and his eyes roll back forward.</p><p>“What-- what is--” he says, his eyes widening, but at this Caster’s eyes flare brightly, and his body stiffens again, taking on a rigid attentive posture.</p><p><em>”You will answer our questions now, completely truthfully, omitting nothing. Is that clear?” </em>Caster speaks in an odd voice.</p><p>“...Yes.” Campbell answers in a monotone, his facial expression unchanging.</p><p>“Good.” Caster’s eyes return to their normal silver-grey, and she walks over and sits down lightly next to me.</p><p>"Mystic eyes?" says Claire. "Impressive."</p><p>Caster smiles wryly. “He will now answer any questions or commands directed at him to the best of his ability. State your name and titles,” she says at Campbell.</p><p>“My name is Charles Joseph Campbell,” he replies, his voice normal but his expression and posture blank and unchanging. “Magus, former head of Familiar Research at the Clocktower, and current Administrator for the 6th Heaven’s Feel for the 6th Compact.”</p><p> </p><p>Claire nods. “Alright. Time to figure out what’s going on here.”</p><p>We’re starting questioning. What should we ask?</p><p> </p><p>(Choose as many questions as you want, in the order you want to ask them-- the number matters; the order will be determined by what you vote for.)</p><p>A) What is the 6th Compact, and who are its members?<br/>
B) What is the “Administrator of the 6th Heaven’s Feel”?<br/>
C) Why did you want my father, Daniel Cooper’s experimental journal?<br/>
D) Who is your servant?<br/>
E) Why did Daniel Cooper disappear?<br/>
F) Why are there so many non-magi in this war?<br/>
G) Who was Archer and his Master, and why did they betray you?<br/>
H) Why is this war taking place in this town?<br/>
I) What can you tell us about the other masters and their servants?</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Status Screen Updated!</p><p><strong>Caster</strong><br/>Skills:<br/>High Speed Divine Language: Through her time spent in Arcadia, Caster is as much a fey as she is human. Because of this, the Fey taught Caster to speak the language of magic itself.</p><p>Fey’s illusion: Caster is a master of illusion, having made contracts with the fey themselves. Her illusions are “illusions of the world” rather than “illusions of the mind”-- they are palpable to any who do not have sufficient magical resistance, and cannot be simply banished by willpower.</p><p>Infernal and Elemental Contracts: Having made contracts with powerful demons and elementals in the past, Caster can call upon their powers for aid in emergencies.</p><p> </p><p>  <strong>Mystic Eyes of Charm: Although low-ranking mystic eyes, Caster is adept at using them to hypnotize the unwitting into doing her bidding. They have little combat effectiveness, however.</strong></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0038"><h2>38. Chapter 38</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I lean forward in my seat. It’s time to begin.</p><p>“First of all-- what exactly is this ‘6th Compact?’”</p><p>“The 6th Compact,” says Campbell, his face expressionless, “is the organization created by myself, Richard Owens and Claude Delmonte 9 years ago for the purpose of reviving the Heaven’s Feel ritual through the creation of a new grail system in the city of Ashton in the United States.”</p><p>I look at Claire, who nods. “That checks out-- those are the three who left the Council around that time.”</p><p>I address Campbell again. “Are those the only members?”</p><p>“No. The three of us are the Administrators. There are the Contestants, who have summoned servants and who, with the exception of Jack Rensfield who has just seemingly betrayed us, are not privy to the organization beyond their purchase of a command spell. There is also the Chairman and his security forces.”</p><p>Claire asks: “So this is the 6th Heaven’s Feel, then?”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“How were you able to reproduce the ritual, then? It should be impossible, the original was destroyed years ago.”</p><p> </p><p>“...--The Grail Simulacrum.”</p><p> </p><p>He takes a moment before he continues.</p><p>“The 6th Compact came into being after the non-magi Daniel Cooper, through his experiments with the interference of magical artifacts managed to somehow reproduce the Grail mechanism used in the Heaven’s Feel ritual. It would have been impossible without his creation, since the original vessel in Fuyuki City, Japan was destroyed following the 5th Heaven’s Feel...”</p><p>I interrupt: “So why do you need my fath-- Daniel Cooper’s journal, if you already have this ‘Grail Simulacrum?’”</p><p>“Because we don’t.” Surprisingly, a bit of anger seems to seep its way through Caster’s enchantment. “...That damnable Wizard Marshal Tohsaka has kept all information about the Heaven’s Feel ritual under lock and key for years, so our only knowledge of it’s workings comes from hearsay and what little writings we could uncover from the remnants of the Matou family... through trial and error we managed to locate the area in which Cooper hid the Simulacrum-- this town-- a year ago, as its power had already begun to convert this surrounding area into hallowed ground.</p><p>“We discovered how to recreate the summoning procedure-- although our method was imperfect, it allowed for non-magi to summon servants as well, albeit weaker ones-- but all we need for the ritual is for servants to fill the Grail, so we decided to sell the right to ‘compete’ in order to raise funds.</p><p>“--But we still cannot locate the Grail Simulacrum itself. The nature of the Grail itself remains a mystery-- accounts of it are sketchy-- We must know where that bastard Cooper hid it! I had hoped the journal would contain a clue as to its location.</p><p>“...How did that bastard do it? How? We searched for years for the secret, for a remaining piece, how could he have done it before us, without any magic circuits, without any talent!”</p><p>He falls silent.</p><p> </p><p>I look over at Claire, who is deep in thought. “I don’t understand. ‘Heaven’s Feel?’ ‘Grail Simulacrum?’ What does all this mean?”</p><p>Claire sighs. “You really don’t know anything that’s going on, do you?”</p><p>Caster shoots her a glare. “Neither do I, apparently. I have not heard of this ‘Heaven’s Feel’ before, either.”</p><p>“Well of course not. You’re a servant; the Grail wouldn’t tell you about that.”</p><p>She looks over at Campbell warily.</p><p>“He will not remember anything said during this period, do not worry,” says Caster.</p><p>“Alright,” says Claire. “I suppose this falls under my jurisdiction. I’ll tell you:”</p><p> </p><p>------------------------</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <em>Heaven’s Feel-- the name of a ritual created by three magus families in the early 1900’s for the purpose of creating the Third Magic-- Immortality. To do so, they created a ritual to summon the Grail of legend, a source of infinite magical power</em>
</p><p>
  <em>To summon it, tough, they needed a huge amount of mana-- so they created the Grail System to summon Heroic Spirits to 7 masters so that they could be sacrificed and their essences added to the grail. The last surviving servant and master, then, would be granted an infinite amount of mana-- enough to grant any wish, including the realization of True Magic.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It was after the first ritual that the idea of the Holy Grail War was conceived-- to convince other Magi to invest their own powers into the ritual, so that the strength of the servants involved would be greater. They would fight, and die, and act as the sacrifices that fed the Grail.</em>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>----------------------</p><p> </p><p>“...So your saying the War is a sham?”</p><p>“In a way, yes. The War is unimportant-- it was an excuse for the sacrifices that fed the Grail. Granted, the victor was the one with access to the completed grail, but the intention was for that to be one of the original three families--</p><p>“But that changed after the Third Heaven’s Feel... I don’t have the clearance with the Association to know more, but something made the Grail break and become corrupted, and the power inside began to push the the ritual towards more and more... evil results. It was destroyed following the 5th Heaven’s Feel, but as Campbell said, any more information about it is still being kept under lockdown, by orders of a Wizard Marshal herself... not that that rank probably means anything to you, but it is speculated that she was one of the people involved in it at the time.”</p><p> </p><p>...Damn. This is a lot to take in at once. I can only nod dumbly. Beside me, Caster has a difficult to read expression on her face. She speaks, suddenly.</p><p>“Lets move onto more immediately practical concerns. Campbell, what can you tell us about the other masters and their servants? Since it seems you sold them their places.”</p><p> </p><p>“...Jack Rensfield summoned Archer. Samantha Reynolds summoned Rider. Father Giovanni summoned Lancer. The Chairman summoned Assassin. Julius Clemenson summoned Berserker.”</p><p>--Wait, where have I heard that name before...</p><p>“Clemenson?” I start. Caster and I look at each other.</p><p>“What?” asks Claire. We relate to her our run-in with him in the lobby of our hotel.</p><p>“...I see. Well, it makes sense, given his riches, that he would pay for a chance at a wish. You should be safe-- he’s no magus, so he can’t detect your presence, and his servant is not one with high detection capabilities... I’m more worried about this ‘Father Giovanni... he couldn’t be.” She shakes her head.</p><p> </p><p>“Who is this ‘Chairman’ you keep mentioning?” she asks, turning back to Campbell.</p><p>”The chairman is--”</p><p> </p><p>--Without warning Campbell seizes up, every muscle in his body tightening to its limit. His eyes, go wide, and the pupils seem to change from brown to gold.</p><p>Caster shoots up and runs over to him, but before she can reach him he spasms once-- twice-- and falls limp.</p><p>She reaches down and touches his head... then shakes her own.</p><p>“...He’s dead.”</p><p> </p><p>-- We sit in stunned silence for a moment.</p><p>“...How?” I manage.</p><p>“He was under a compulsion far more powerful than mine,” Caster responds, quietly. “Powerful enough to kill him on a trigger-- likely the mention of this Chairman’s name or nature.”</p><p>Claire looks at the body that was once Campbell dispassionately. She swears under her breath. “I suppose that’s the end of that, then.”</p><p> </p><p>My head is still spinning. This is all too much to take in at once.</p><p>“Now then,” says Claire, suddenly businesslike. “Do you understand a bit more what’s going on here?”</p><p>I nod. “Better than before, anyways, but I’m still confused.”</p><p>“Then I have a proposition-- let’s continue to work together.”</p><p> </p><p>Caster starts beside me. Claire keeps talking before Caster can interrupt.</p><p> </p><p>“Listen-- This is not even a proper Heaven’s Feel. You should know now that the Grail War is meaningless. This ‘Grail Simulacrum’, if it can even truly reproduce the Grail’s power, may still contain the corruption of the original-- either way, it can’t grant any wishes, at least not in any ways you would want them granted. I have no desire to obtain this grail, and Saber understands the situation as well.</p><p>“--I am here under orders from the Mage Association, send down from Marshall Tohsaka herself, to put a stop to this ‘Grail War’. I don’t have any quarrel with you. Caster is a powerful Servant, and between us we can easily defeat this ‘6th Compact’ and put a stop to all this--</p><p>“You do realize,” says Caster, angrily rising to her feet, “that if you are lying, this would be a perfect ploy to reel us in and take the Grail for yourself--”</p><p>“You heard Campbell!” Claire responds, her voice rising. “You said yourself that he could tell no lies while under your spell! Does it sound like a war conducted under their supervision will do what the Grail told you it would? It’s advice is wrong! It was a trick to begin with!”</p><p>“Or you could be lying about it’s true nature! It could be that--”</p><p> </p><p>“BOTH OF YOU! SIT DOWN!”</p><p> </p><p>I yell over them. To my surprise, they both shut up and stare at me. Saber grins.</p><p>“Look,” I try to explain, “this will get us nowhere... Caster, I think Claire is telling the truth. What she and Campbell said is probably correct.</p><p>“--But Caster is right. We can’t just so easily trust you, Claire. Not in a situation like this.”</p><p>Claire sighs. “I see. I can’t fault you for being cautions, I suppose. Do I have to prove my sincerity then?”</p><p> </p><p>She pulls up her left sleeve, revealing a red pattern on her lower arm. This must be her command spell.</p><p>“As you can see, I have two remaining Command Spells left-- if you recall, you cost me the first one in our last confrontation.”</p><p>I nod.</p><p>Claire takes a deep breath before continuing. “If you agree to ally with us, I will use one of my remaining two to give Saber an absolute order to never harm either of you, and to give up the grail to you both if we discover that it is both uncorrupted and truly wish-granting.”</p><p>Caster and I stare in shock. I look over at Saber, who is still lounging on the couch, looking unconcerned. “You’re OK with this?”</p><p>“I am a hero,” he responds with a shrug. “I slay whatever beasts are placed in front of me, be they men, dragons, servants, or tainted grails. I could wish for nothing else.”</p><p>Claire stands at the ready. Caster is beside me, a complicated look of anger and confusion on her face. I have to make a decision.</p><p> </p><p>A) Make her do it.<br/>
B) I can’t make her do it.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Status Screen Updated!</p><p><strong>Servant Rider</strong><br/>Master- Samantha Reynolds</p><p><strong>Servant Archer</strong><br/>Master- Jack Rensfield</p><p><strong>Servant Berserker</strong><br/>Master- Julius Clemenson</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0039"><h2>39. Chapter 39</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>B) I can’t make her do it.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>“Wait.”</p><p>I hold up my hand.</p><p>“You don’t have to do that.”</p><p>Claire and Caster both look at me, Claire quizzically and Caster with incredulity.</p><p>“...Keep the command spell. It’s too important to waste on something like this.”</p><p>Claire lowers her arm. “Then are we allies?”</p><p>I look over at Caster... She has a dangerous look on her face. I turn away so as to not be burnt by the heat hiding behind her expression.</p><p>“...For now, yes. I don’t think we have any reason not to trust you, but... well, let’s call it a truce, at least. Until we have a better idea of what’s going on.”</p><p>Claire nods, satisfied. “I understand.”</p><p>She stands, and walks over to the window. “Then I guess we’re done for the night. I’ll contact my superiors about these new developments and see if I can get them to declassify any more information relating to what Campbell told us... damn, we’re going to have to do something about that, aren’t we?” She gestures towards the corpse that was once Campbell laying on the couch.</p><p>Caster waves her hand dismissively and the body is engulfed in spectral flames which begin to consume the corpse without touching the couch it lays on, leaving nothing but fine ash.</p><p>“...That works,” says Claire. Caster remains silent, a carefully blank expression on her face.</p><p>“In that case,” Claire continues, looking at her watch, “we should continue in the morning.”</p><p>I check mine; it’s already almost four. Damn.</p><p>“...Yea. We’ll be heading out.”</p><p>“Oh.” Claire looks up at me. “That might not be a good idea. Archer’s men are probably out looking for us, and there’s other servants out on the prowl at this time of night as well. If you’d like, you can stay here for the night, just to be safe.”</p><p>Caster shoots a glance over at Claire. “I believe I am capable of keeping my master safe, magus.”</p><p>Claire shrugs. “Just an offer. After all," she says towards Caster, "I should care about my ally’s safety, right?”</p><p>They both look at me. I gulp.</p><p> </p><p>A) Claire has a point. We should stay here and continue our planning in the morning-- better safe than sorry, and we shouldn’t be wasting time now that we know what we know.<br/>B) We’ll be fine leaving-- Caster’s concealment is enough to keep us safe. We can meet up again tomorrow; this way I’ll have a chance to discuss things with Caster alone.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0040"><h2>40. Chapter 40</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>B) We’ll leave.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>I stand.</p><p>“Thanks for the offer, but we’ll be fine-- Caster’s concealment got us here safely, you know; it can get us back to our room.”</p><p>“If you insist,” Claire answers. “Let’s meet again tomorrow, then. I’ll tell you what I learn from the Association, and you can explain exactly what kind of half-magus or psychic or whatever you are.”</p><p>--Like I understand it either. I doubt she’d be able to figure it out if Caster can’t. I don’t say anything though. “Alright. The park again tomorrow afternoon?”</p><p>Claire nods. I stand and turn to Caster.</p><p>“... Is that alright with you?” I ask hesitantly.</p><p>“...Whatever you think is best, Master.” she says, and I wince a bit at her usage of the title.</p><p> </p><p>---------------------</p><p> </p><p>We leave the complex in silence and set out down the road back to the Commercial District and the hotel. The streets are dark and silent this early in the morning, and we preserve the silence as we pass down through them.</p><p>Caster walks beside me in silence. Her clothing has changed to her casual set, as she is currently suppressing her presence. To anyone on the street, we would seem like a normal couple walking back from a late party or whatever.</p><p>--Or, more accurately, a couple walking back from a party where the guy did something stupid, like get too drunk and flirt around or puke on a rug or something, and now the girl is pissed and is definitely deliberately not speaking to him... or something like that.</p><p>Metaphors aside, I’ve got to do something. I mean, Caster should understand why I decided to ally with Claire, right? She heard what Campbell said. Then why is she so... angry? Or am I just over-thinking this whole thing? Dammit, Andy always tells me this is why I can’t keep a girlfriend, I didn’t think it could also affect my ability to get along with my servant--</p><p> </p><p>“Will.”</p><p>I’m startled out of my internal monologue by Caster’s voice beside me.</p><p>“Um, yeah? What’s up?”</p><p>We’ve stopped walking at the edge of the Commercial district, in a small pavilion in front of a department store. Caster is silent for a moment before she speaks again.</p><p> </p><p>“...As a servant,” she says, in a very measured, careful tone, “I am compelled to and am willing to go along with the whims of my master. So I have remained silent in our previous... negotiations."</p><p>“You talk of compromise. The magus... Claire talks of eliminating this war and the grail which summoned me... I think you are right, Will, I think she is telling the truth, at least as far as she understands it."</p><p>“So will you accept a truce, Will? Do you feel you can trust this woman’s word, that she does not seek the grail, that she will just... hand it over without a fight? That she will not try to take it for herself, or simply destroy it?”</p><p>I try to interrupt-- “but if what Claire said was true, and it’s contents are corrupted--”</p><p>“I cannot allow that to change my goal. What we heard from Campbell and Claire back there, was... unsettling, to be sure, but it does not change my resolve."</p><p>“--I must have the grail, Will. I will not accept any other outcome, and I will deal with anything that stands in my way. I believe I made that clear before.”</p><p>She speaks levelly, but I can sense the same degree of feeling behind her words as that night she confronted me before-- the same tone of resolution, even desperation hidden behind her words.</p><p>“So I have to ask again-- what is your intention, Will? Will you fight to win this war, regardless of the consequences?”</p><p> </p><p>--Tap</p><p> </p><p>“...I have enjoyed my time with you so far, Will, but I will not hesitate to end our contract if you balk at the task--”</p><p> </p><p>--Tap</p><p> </p><p>“So I must hear your answer. I... I hope that you are--”</p><p> </p><p>--Tap</p><p> </p><p>Caster stiffens in mid-sentence. I look behind me.</p><p> </p><p>--Tap</p><p> </p><p>A black cane taps against the sidewalk behind us.</p><p> </p><p>--Tap</p><p> </p><p>It’s held by a tall dark figure, dressed neatly in a suit which I recognize all to well from our previous encounter.</p><p> </p><p>--Tap</p><p> </p><p>Clemenson.</p><p> </p><p>--Tap</p><p> </p><p>He stops in front of us with a final tap of his cane, and stands, appraising the two of us frozen in mid-argument. Then, his craggy old face breaks into a small smile, and he chuckles softly.</p><p>--“You kids picked an awfully bad place for an fight,” he says. His voice is an odd mixture of an almost stereotypical southern dialect and the measured speech of the wealthy. “Shouldn’t be out on the streets on a night like this.”</p><p><em>His servant... Berserker is with him,</em> I hear Caster’s voice whispering into my ear, now all business. <em>There’s no way he knows you're a master or I’m a servant-- he must really think we’re just students.</em></p><p>“Eheh, sorry sir,” I say quickly, scratching my head. “We were just... you know...”</p><p>He laughs. “Don’t say it, don’t say it. I was young once too, you know.”</p><p>He points at us with his cane. “But you run along now. You’re lucky you ran into me out here tonight and not some hoodlum. Streets aren’t safe at night, ‘specially ‘round now.”</p><p>...<em>We have him completely unawares, Will. His servant would take a moment to manifest, now would be the perfect time to strike.</em></p><p>--I don’t feel good about attacking an old man on the street at night. But Caster has a good point-- this man is a master, and at least partially working for the 6th Compact, and we have a perfect shot at eliminating him right now.</p><p>We should--</p><p> </p><p>A) Attack!<br/>B) Let him go.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0041"><h2>41. Chapter 41</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>A) Attack!</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Alright. Take him out, Caster!</em>
</p><p>Before I can even react, a lance of arcane light bursts from behind me. --This fight is over before it’s begun. The bolt instantly crosses the distance of the pavilion to tear off the old man’s head--</p><p> </p><p>--Or rather, to tear through where the old man’s head used to be.</p><p> </p><p>Instead, it passes harmlessly over his right shoulder, as he had calmly stepped to the left only a moment ago.</p><p>--How? How could he have dodged it? I didn’t even have a chance to react and I told her to fire--</p><p>Clemenson clicks his tongue.</p><p>“Manners, young lady. Didn’t your momma teach you to be kind to your elders?"</p><p> </p><p>“--Berserker. Teach them some manners.”</p><p> </p><p>I move just in time to hear a huge crash behind me as the concrete splinters under the force of a hammer-blow. I turn to see the enormous hulk of Berserker towering beside me.</p><p>--I run, almost getting knocked off my feet by the force of the hammer-swing behind me. Caster quickly intervenes between us, sending bolt after bolt of arcane fire shooting down onto the hulk as he advances, but he shrugs them off and continues his slow approach like a juggernaut.</p><p> </p><p><em>I don’t understand</em>, Caster says. <em>My spells are penetrating his magic defense-- why is he not stopping?</em></p><p><em>Just keep trying,</em> I answer. Now that Berserker is occupied, I’ll have to do something about his master...</p><p> </p><p>As I move, I reach into my jacket and pull out one of my pistol. Looks like these guys are finally going to get some use.</p><p>I whip around a few paces away and take aim at Clemenson, who still stands motionless, resting his arms on his cane set up in front of him. He just smiles at me.</p><p>“Boy,” he drawls, “you can shoot all you like, but there ain’t nothing you do that’s gonna harm me or my monster over there.”</p><p>Ignore him. Focus on what you’re doing. Aim the shot at the meat of his body. Hold the gun steady. Fire--</p><p>The bullet ricochets off the ground behind him. I fire again. He sidesteps nimbly, the bullet whizzing by his side. He laughs again.</p><p>--A shadow looms over me. I lunge forward, my legs narrowly missing being crushed by the massive hulk of iron Berserker wields. Caster leaps over to land beside me, helping me to my feet.</p><p>Berserker now stands between us and his master. He’s been hurt at least a bit by Caster’s onslaught, but he does not seem fazed in the least.</p><p> </p><p>A) Have Caster restrain Berserker while you go after Clemenson again.<br/>B) Concentrate on Berserker and try to take him down. We’ve been able to hurt him, we have to be able to take him down soon.<br/>C) Attack Berserker head-on, but feint and go after Clemenson instead.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0042"><h2>42. Chapter 42</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>C)Feint to Clemenson</strong>
</p><p> </p><p><em>We’ve got to get to Clemenson</em>, I send to Caster. <em>Can we pull off a feint?</em></p><p>
  <em>Of course. Attack as he attempts to strike next!</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Here goes nothing. As Berserker begins to move we charge. I fire at the head of the beast as I run. The bullets that hit tear at the skin of his face, leaving visible scrapes and bruises, but he shows no sign of acknowledgement that he’s even been hit.</p><p>As I run, Caster takes to the air above me, speaking faster than I can understand, and the air around Berserker begins to darken, irises of arcane light opening in mid-air surrounding Berserker. He ignores them, continuing his advance, but is stopped by the wall of gradually encroaching darkness. The juggernaut finally shows signs of anger, batting at darkness, but his swings merely pass through the wall of illusion that still prevents his passage.</p><p>As he is distracted, I move quickly around the beast’s side, emerging from the cloud a few paces in front of Clemenson. He cocks and eyebrow in surprise, but his smile doesn’t move.</p><p>“Tryin’ again, boy? Same thing ain’t gonna work no matter how many times you try it--”</p><p> </p><p>--But this time I’m smiling as well.</p><p>In an instant, the blackness around Berserker disappears, and the irises from before open all surrounding Clemenson. Caster appears beside me as they begin to glow with an intense light, and with a word of release they send out a torrent of energy in a flash, beams cris-crossing the area where Clemenson stands, cracking the pavement and burning tar and rock to ash.</p><p> </p><p>--I’m not taking any chances this time. As the light clears and symbols fade I’m already running towards the center. Sure enough, Clemenson is laying, contorted in an odd position, his clothes smoking and burnt but his body itself mostly unharmed. Somehow, he must have positioned himself just so as to not take a fatal wound.</p><p>But before he can react I’m on top of him, my pistol up against his forehead. --I don’t care what kind of crazy dodging power or whatever you have, you can’t dodge this.</p><p>I have a split second--</p><p>A) Pull the trigger<br/>B) Wait first.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0043"><h2>43. Chapter 43</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>A) Pull the trigger</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>I don’t have time to think. I pull the trigger.</p><p> </p><p>The gun recoils in my hands. With a wet bang his skull cracks, first in the front, then in the back. Blood and cranial fluid splatters on my hands, up my arms, on my chest, on my face.</p><p> </p><p>...I just did it. I shot someone. He was laying on the ground and I shot him. Point blank. Just like that. Pow. Dead. A wet mess laying on the ground in front of me. His skull is completely shattered, and bits of wet grey matter are splattered all around. My sleeves are heavy and wet. The stench of bodily fluids fills my senses. I didn’t know there was so much blood--</p><p> </p><p>--A quiet pop sounds from across the way. Before I have a chance to wonder what it is--</p><p> </p><p>The pain only lasts an instant before my consciousness is snuffed out.</p><p> </p><p>------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>From the rooftop, he can see the female servant rush towards her falling master, but it was already too late for the both of them-- she was already beginning to fade away by the time she reached his falling body.</p><p>The red-headed servant on the rooftop looks up from his scope. He did not wish to see their blood-- that was why he killed from a distance, after all. He knew, rationally, that there was no curse in doing so, but such superstitions die hard, even in this modern day. Sighing, he presses the button on his radio.</p><p>
  <em>Recon 4, report back to base. Both targets have been neutralized.</em>
</p><p><em>Sir!</em> several voices respond.</p><p>He stands, quietly. A pity, he thought, that they had to end like this. That boy had shown such promise, but he was still an obstacle, and he could not have ignored the chance to eliminate two obstacles at once.</p><p>Turning away from the scene, from the two dead masters and their dying servants, he begins making his silent way back... There was more work to be done, after all.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <strong> DEAD END</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>------------------------------</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>... I think I’m starting to get used to this. Whether or not that’s a good thing remains to be seen, but this time I don’t need any help waking up.</p><p>“Oh, dude, you’re awake already?”</p><p>Again, I’m laying on a desk in that strange classroom. Andy is sitting in the seat beside me, and a glance shows me that Claire is in her same spot near the front of the classroom.</p><p>“Yea, yea...I’m up...”</p><p> </p><p>As I sit up in my chair, Caster enters.</p><p>“Ah, good, you’re already up... although the fact that you’re starting to get used to this isn’t really a good thing, I suppose.”</p><p>“...Whatever,” I say, yawning and stretching. I have a foggy idea that something bad just happened to me, but I can’t yet quite remember what it was... “Can we just get to it? What did I do wrong this time?”</p><p>“What did you do wrong?” Caster exclaims. “You mean, besides the obvious ethical implications of murdering someone with a point-blank shot to the forehead? Not to mention the irreversible psychological damage you would have done to yourself as a result?”</p><p>“Oh yeah... well, can I be blamed? I mean, he was trying to kill me too!”</p><p>“It’s not really fair anyways,” interjects Claire. “I mean, how was he supposed to know that that would lead to a dead end? It doesn’t exactly follow logically, does it?”</p><p> </p><p>“True, true,” says Caster. “It was a rather sudden dead end, wasn’t it? It’s likely that Doink has some reason why he doesn’t want this particular antagonist dead yet, don’t you think?”</p><p>“Or that he doesn’t want Will killing anyone yet,” says Andy. “He’s not exactly the Rambo type, and we wouldn’t want him going all emo or psychopathic on us while he’s trying to cope.”</p><p>“...That’s actually rather insightful, Andy,” says Caster, somewhat surprised.</p><p>He shrugs. “I took Intro Psychology last semester,” he says, nodding smugly.</p><p> </p><p>Caster turns back to me. “Any of these concerns could be a valid reason, I suppose. Regardless, there’s not much I can tell you about this choice other than, well, take the other one.” She brightens “At least there’s only one other option! No hard decision there!”</p><p> </p><p>--Small comfort. And that means the other choice probably won’t kill me.</p><p> </p><p>“...Alright,” I manage. “So can I go back and try again now?”</p><p>“I suppose,” she replies cheerfully. “Try not to die this time!”</p><p> </p><p>--The world dims and swirls. I sit back down patiently, awaiting my return to reality...</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0044"><h2>44. Chapter 44</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>B) Wait first.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>--I hesitate.</p><p> </p><p>It’s not that I’m not prepared to fire. I hope, at least that I’m strong enough to do what I have to. ----But I can’t just fire on an opponent who’s so obviously defeated. I have to at least give him a chance to surrender.</p><p>Underneath me, the old man stiffens.</p><p>“Boy,” he says, his voice quiet and suddenly serious. “You’re gonna want to move your head a bit to the left, here in a few seconds.”</p><p> </p><p>“What?” I’m confused.</p><p> </p><p>“Three,” Clemenson says, with a meaningful look.</p><p> </p><p>--What?</p><p> </p><p>“Two.”</p><p> </p><p>--What’s he playing at here?</p><p> </p><p>----“One.”</p><p> </p><p>I shift myself sideways just as a quiet pop sounds from across the open pavilion. In an instant I am thrown sideways by an impact on my right shoulder that knocks me to the ground. Pain shoots through my body.</p><p>Several more shots follow. Caster appears before me, shielding me from further bullets. Clemenson nimbly dodges the few directed at him.</p><p>“Berserker, we’re leaving,” he calls, and the beast comes to follow him away. Before he goes, he turns to Caster and I.</p><p> </p><p>“--You spare my life, I save yours. We’re even now, boy!"</p><p> </p><p>He walks off. My vision is swimming-- it seems I’m losing a lot of blood. The last thing I see before I drop into unconsciousness is Caster, her face awash with concern, bending over me...</p><p> </p><p>------------------------------<br/>Interlude 2<br/>------------------------------</p><p>“...Sir.”</p><p>The white-coated specialist addresses him uncertainly. He was never sure where he stood with his new boss. As an engineer, he was the unscrupulous sort-- had never questioned the work that he was hired to complete, nor the motives of the people who hired him.</p><p>But his new boss had an aura about him... it was almost frightening. And the work that he was doing was strange-- as a curious person it intrigued him, but as a professional it made very little sense.</p><p>The tall, red headed man, whom he had been instructed to refer to only as “Archer”-- obviously some alias-- turns from the window to face him. He places a large metal briefcase on the table before him.</p><p>“The prototype is ready,” he says, simply, and opens the case.</p><p>--Inside is a rifle. It’s not of any normal make or model-- its a custom job, with a long bore and large barrel-- a beautiful weapon.</p><p>But that’s where the normality ends. The barrel itself is covered in strange, spiraling carvings which appear to be of an occult nature, which converge at a point on the side of the stock where an emblem shaped like an oddly-curved bow interlocked with a key is etched in pure gold. Additionally-- and this part confused him the most-- although it had a simple, working rifle mechanism inside, designed to very specific instructions, it had no loading mechanism or magazine.</p><p> </p><p>“Archer” smiles and picks the gun out of its case.</p><p>“Excellent work. This exceeds my expectations.”</p><p>--Despite himself, the engineer took a note of special pride at this praise. There was something about this man that made you really want to please him...</p><p>Archer swings the rifle towards a wall, looking down the sights in an obviously practiced motion.</p><p>“May I test it?”</p><p>“Certainly,” he replies, confused, “but it’s not loade--”</p><p> </p><p>--A loud sound, not a gunshot but an enormous clang like the hammering of metal, resounds through the room, accompanied by a flash of light erupting from the barrel of the rifle. The wall shatters into a storm of falling concrete, revealing the empty storage room beside.</p><p> </p><p>Archer nods, satisfied. The engineer looks on, dumbfounded.</p><p> </p><p>“...Begin mass-production,” Archer says, placing the rifle back on the desk. “I want every man armed with one by the end of tomorrow, preferably with the semi-automatic variant. Is that possible?”</p><p>“...Of course,” the engineer answers. “We will get started right away.”</p><p>“Good... you shall be rewarded for your diligence. What is your name?”</p><p>“...Smith. Robert Smith.”</p><p>“Very well, Smith. You are now Chief Engineer.”</p><p>“...Sir!”</p><p>The engineer is practically glowing with pride. He had never received a promotion like this, despite all his years of previous work.</p><p>“You are dismissed. I am confident you will see to it that the work is completed properly.”</p><p>The engineer leaves, elated. Archer turns back to the window with a smile.</p><p>--That man was his, now. Completely loyal.</p><p>He looks back to the rifle, still laying on the table. This was going to make things much simpler...</p><p> </p><p>---------------------------------<br/>Day 5 11/7<br/>---------------------------------</p><p>
  <em><br/>...Marriage.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Before, she was an annoyance to her father, but now she was a tool-- a means of obtaining an important political alliance.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>--A foul old man. Almost her father’s age. But an important ally, necessary for securing his position as king. So she was taken, again, from the place she had learned to love, from her new position as a healer, as a bride of God, and was made a wife of man.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She was 16.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>But she was not a girl any longer. She had learned what it was like to feel a purpose, to learn, to acquire power. ---She had learned selfishness. She was still an obedient daughter, though, so she went along with her fathers wishes; despite the discontent which gnawed at her deep within her heart.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>His castle was cold. He did not lie with her-- his tastes were for... other pleasures. She was isolated again, but without the comforts of her convent, forbidden to practice the healing arts she had so carefully learned over the years.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Her solace lay in the Sorcerer. He still visited, still brought her tomes and scrolls and teachings. So she learned, and as her discontent spread her skills did also, from the hones arts of healing to others more subtle and beguiling...</em>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>-----------------------------</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>...Slowly, I open my eyes.</p><p>Funny, I don’t remember going to bed last night. I try and take stock of my situation.</p><p>I’m laying in the hotel bed. Good, so how did I get here? I remember the ambush, then questioning Campbell, then walking back with Caster, then--</p><p>Oh, right! I got shot!</p><p>...I got shot?</p><p>...</p><p> </p><p>--FUCK!</p><p> </p><p>I reach instinctively for my shoulder. But where the gaping gunshot wound was is now just smooth, unbroken skin.</p><p>I sit up. Caster is sitting in a chair by the bed, her eyes closed. She opens them as I move upright.</p><p>“Ah, good, you’re finally awake.”</p><p>“Yeah... what happened?” I’m still hazy with sleep.</p><p>“You were shot during our fight with Berserker, remember? I got you back here and fixed the wound.”</p><p>I poke at the skin where the bullet-hole was. ...I had forgotten just how amazing Caster’s healing powers were. She sees me do it and smiles.</p><p>“I was known as a healer before I was known as a sorceress, you know.”</p><p> </p><p>...Her comment brings back to mind the dream I just had. ---I’m beginning to have suspicions that I know what those are and what they mean, but I keep silent for now. It wouldn’t do me any good to bring it up.</p><p> </p><p>I move to stand, the covers sliding off me. I realize, belatedly, that my shirt had been removed, but not until too late do I feel the chill of uncovered skin as the remainder of the sheets drop away and I stand exposed.</p><p> </p><p>Caster raises her eyebrow, an odd smile on her face. “Well,” she says, simply.</p><p> </p><p>...I’m naked, aren’t I?</p><p> </p><p>...Is this one of those dreams where you start doing something only to realize that you’re actually naked but no-one notices.?</p><p> </p><p>...Nope, don’t think so.</p><p> </p><p>...Shouldn’t I move, then?</p><p> </p><p>As fast as I can move I jump back into the bed, pulling a sheet back over me.</p><p>“Sorry, sorry,” Caster says, stifling her laughter. “I had to strip you in order to work, you understand.”</p><p>“You could have told me!” I sputter, trying not to think about the implications of what she just said she did.</p><p>“Sorry, sorry... it’s just... your face... ” she’s not doing a very good job stifling it anymore, I must say.</p><p> </p><p>I get up on the other side of the bed and grab a pair of boxers and pants from my suitcase on the floor. There. Now that I’m decent, I stand up again.</p><p>By this point Caster has gotten her laughter under control. She stands.</p><p>“Well, now we’re even.” she says with a smile.</p><p>Even?... oh, right.</p><p>“Well, not entirely even...”</p><p>“Hmm?” she cocks her head, puzzled. “How so?”</p><p>“...I haven’t gotten to strip you yet, have I?” I reply as I walk towards the bathroom to shower.</p><p>“Ha ha. I’d like to see you try," she calls back as I enter.</p><p> </p><p>------------------------</p><p> </p><p>After showering and getting re-dressed I take a look at the clock.</p><p>--Its already almost noon. Luckily, my Tuesday classes don’t start until one, so I could still make it. At this point though, I’m wondering if it’s even worth going... but then again, I don’t want to compromise my academic standing completely, or make my friends worry. I should--</p><p> </p><p>A) Go to class.<br/>B) Skip out.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0045"><h2>45. Chapter 45</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>A) Go to class.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>...As much as I hate to say it, I shouldn’t skip class. There’s not really anything much we can do during the day, so better to not let my grades slip more than they probably already will. Plus it’ll be a good way to see if people have noticed Campbell’s disappearance yet.</p><p>I tell Caster. She shrugs. “As you said, there’s nothing much else we can do during the day, so you may as well. I will of course have to accompany you, though.”</p><p>“Yeah, yeah, I know... Oh yea, Caster.” I guess I should say something. “...About last night--”</p><p>“Do not worry yourself, Will,” she replies. “Your willingness to take action against Clemenson was enough...” She hesitates. “...I shall not question your motives further. As long as you are still fulfilling your duties as a master, I shall fulfill mine as a servant.”</p><p>I smile grimly. “Only just enough, huh...”</p><p>“That’s not what I meant--”</p><p>“It’s alright. Lets just get going.”</p><p> </p><p>---------------------------</p><p> </p><p>I finish breakfast and we leave the hotel. Now that we know that Clemenson is a master, we’re careful to keep up our illusory appearances outside of the room, even though we haven’t yet run into him or Berserker-- wherever they are, its far enough away from our room as to be only barely detectable, and our room’s defenses and Berserker’s own insanity should keep them from finding us.</p><p>We reach campus with a bit to spare before class starts. I go back into the bushes behind the sign and retrieve the books I had stashed there before the ambush last night-- luckily I had a spare bag in my suitcase, since there wasn’t much left of my old one...</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, man.”</p><p>Andy walks up behind us as we head towards my first class. He gives Caster a polite nod.</p><p>“Hey”, I reply. “What’re you still doing over here? You got off class an hour ago-- don’t tell me you’re actually trying to study?”</p><p>“Nah man,” he smiles, clapping me on the shoulder. “Why would I want to do that? I came here to get a look at the new girl.”</p><p>I’m confused. “The new girl?”</p><p>“Dude, don’t you ever watch the news? We’ve got a celebrity on campus! The whole college’s been talking about it all week!”</p><p>Hey, I’ve kind of been occupied with other things. “First I’ve heard of it. Why do you care anyways? You’re not the type to--”</p><p>“Dude, this is Samantha fucking Reynolds we’re talking about! Of course I care! She’s like the hottest actress since they invented hot actresses!”</p><p>“Hey man, you're starting to sound kinda--”</p><p> </p><p>--Hold it.</p><p>Where have I heard that name before.</p><p>Samantha Reynolds.</p><p>Caster and I look at each other. We realize it at the same second.</p><p>----It looks like we’ve found another master.</p><p> </p><p>I interrupt Andy’s rant. “So, this Samantha Reynolds is supposed to be on campus today?”</p><p>“Yeah, man, no-one knows why but she just transferred over here. She’s supposed to start classes today. Damn, I was hoping she’d be in one of mine... oh well, there’s always tomorrow.”</p><p>He starts to walk off. “See ya, man, you’re gonna be late if you don’t move!”</p><p> </p><p>After he leaves, I turn to Caster. She nods.</p><p>“We’ll just have to be cautious.”</p><p>“Yes. Although she normally would be unable to detect us, Rider knows our appearances already...”</p><p>She stops and closes her eyes for a moment. “...Yes,”, she says finally, “I can sense a servant somewhere on this campus. It is unlikely that they would attack us during the day in a public area like this, though.”</p><p>“Then--</p><p> </p><p>A) we should just continue as normal and go to class.<br/>B) we should leave campus so as not to be seen.<br/>C) we should go looking for them.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0046"><h2>46. Chapter 46</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>A) We should just go to class.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>My first class begins as normal. This time I let Caster come in and sit with me-- I only have lecture hall classes today, so no-one will notice a new face amongst the two hundred some students who show up every day. Besides, I’m feeling more wary knowing that there’s another servant hanging around. We sit towards the back, just in case.</p><p>The professor drones on in his usual monotone. The class is an “Overview of World History 1500-1900”; an introductory class but one that I still needed for my major, so the class is about half History majors who have to care and half people just taking it for a gen-ed who sleep in class (or don’t show up at all.) I have a hard time keeping my eyes open, given that the professor is the most boring lecturer on the goddamn planet.</p><p>Caster, though, seems to be enjoying sitting in on the lecture. She listens very intently to his discussion of the early American colonization. I guess most of this is new to her-- she said the grail only gave her as much knowledge as she needed to fight in the grail war, so if she comes from when I think she does that puts almost a thousand year gap in her world history.</p><p> </p><p><em>The servant is approaching our location</em>, Caster says suddenly.<em> It doesn’t seem hostile, though-- there’s no way they could have detected us.</em></p><p>
  <em>It must be coincidence. Just keep watching them--</em>
</p><p> </p><p>--Thanks to our location on the back row, I see the door swing open quietly. A girl sneaks in and sits down in the row across from us.</p><p>...You can tell she’s rich just from looking at her. She’s incredibly attractive-- not the sort of ethereal, archaic beauty of Caster but a more modern appeal, although it seems just as effortless. Her long blonde hair falls in rivulets down her back, and her skin is a flawless tan. And I would bet money that all of the clothes she’s wearing carry some designer’s tag-- and probably cost more money than I see in a year. I don’t need to be a fan like Andy to know that this has got to be the master and actress Samantha Reynolds.</p><p>I guess she’s at least trying to be inconspicuous though-- she’s wearing large designer sunglasses and a hooded jacket and scarf. But it’s still pretty obvious.</p><p>I look at Caster and she nods.<em> Rider is with her, yes. In fact, he is currently standing in the isle over there... here, one moment.<br/></em><br/>I hear her mumble something under her breath and suddenly my vision takes on a smokey cast.</p><p>
  <em>You should be able to see spiritual forms now, temporarily. Look over there.</em>
</p><p>In the isle, a hazy shape begins to form until I am greeted by a translucent but familiar figure in noble finery-- who happens to be staring right at me, a cooly enraged expression on his face.</p><p>--I smile. He snarls as he realizes I see him and walks over to his master, whispering in her ear. She starts and snaps her head around to look at Caster and I, who stare back. Caster gives her a wry smile and waves. Neither of us move. The professor continues to drone in the background. Despite the fact that in any other situation we’d be trying to kill each other now, the way that simply being in class has rendered us powerless to act is almost absurdly comical.</p><p> </p><p>The lecture will be over soon--</p><p>A) We should confront them after the lecture is done.<br/>B) We can’t confront them here-- let’s take them somewhere and deal with them.<br/>C) Let’s just leave-- we have other things to do this afternoon.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0047"><h2>47. Chapter 47</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>C) Let’s just leave.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>This is stupid. We can’t accomplish anything here. I motion to Caster.</p><p>
  <em>Come on, we’re leaving.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>What?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>We’re not accomplishing anything like this. We know who she is now, but we can’t do anything here but stare at each other. And that's just getting weird--</em>
</p><p>--I jab a finger over at Rider, who is pacing up and down the aisle in invisible irritation.</p><p>Caster nods. <em>Very well.</em></p><p>We both rise quietly and leave the classroom. --Students often duck out of lecture early like this, so it’s not like anyone will notice us leaving.</p><p>Except, of course, the two so intently watching us, who start as we head for the back door. I don’t look back at them-- don’t want to seem conspicuous-- and head outside into the winter air.</p><p> </p><p>------------------</p><p> </p><p>“Phew.” I sigh, once we’re a short distance away. “That was starting to get to me.”</p><p>“An odd situation indeed,” answered Caster.</p><p>Classes are still going on, so the walkways of campus are mostly deserted, and will be for the next five minutes are so-- just a few early arrivers for the next class period hanging around.</p><p> </p><p>“--Hey! Where do you think you’re going!”</p><p> </p><p>A girl’s voice from behind stops us.</p><p>...I don’t even need to turn around to know who it is.</p><p> </p><p>Samantha is standing angrily in the middle of the path behind us. ---If this was a cartoon, she’d have steam coming out of her ears right now.</p><p>“How... how dare you just ignore us like that! What’re you trying to pull here?”</p><p>“...Trying to... pull?” Caster is both confused and amused by Samantha’s behavior.</p><p> </p><p>--Without warning, Rider appears in the pathway in front of us. We stiffen. Caster glares, and a faint smokey aura begins to appear around her.</p><p>“Rider.” She says curtly. He makes a mock-bow. She scowls. “I already beat you once. You should know better than to try an attack like that again. Especially in public.”</p><p> </p><p>“Hmph.” Rider snorts. “If you had not run away to save your master, I would have finished you, wench.”</p><p>“Oh?” Caster’s voice is suddenly very, very cold.</p><p> </p><p>“--Then perhaps I should make you do the same?”</p><p> </p><p>I turn as a stifled scream is heard from the girl behind me. Spectral vines have emerged from the ground around the brick path and are constricting Samantha’s arms and legs, as well as (thankfully) covering her mouth.</p><p>Rider stiffens with rage. “Damn witch!” he roars, leaping forwards at Caster and I.</p><p>Damn--</p><p>A) We’ll have to just take care of him here, quickly and quietly.<br/>B) We can’t fight here, we have to lead them somewhere else.<br/>C) Forget it. We’ll just leave. Caster can get them off our trail easily enough.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0048"><h2>48. Chapter 48</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>B) We can’t fight here</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Caster twirls in the air as Rider approaches, nimbly dodging his attack as I throw myself to the side much less gracefully.</p><p>--But that seems to have been Rider’s aim to begin with, as he reaches his master in an instant and slices at her bonds, which evaporate as he touches them. I scramble to my feet as he does so.</p><p>--<em>Caster. We can’t fight them here. It’s too public.</em></p><p>
  <em>Understood. Where can we go?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>This way. Maybe we can find an empty lot or something. We just have to get away from here.</em>
</p><p>I break off running. Caster follows, running lightly besides me.</p><p> </p><p>We streak down the trail-- I haven’t run like this in awhile, so I’m starting to struggle, but I can tell that Caster is having to slow herself down to keep with me. ---Stupid servants, making me look bad. Behind us, I can see Rider gaining, and Samantha struggling behind him. She’s obviously not used to running; and her fancy shoes aren’t helping.</p><p>We reach a turn in the trail. I stumble. Rider leaps forwards, but is rebuffed by a bold of light from Caster’s hands. I regain my footing and continue.</p><p>
  <em>This way! We’re almost there!</em>
</p><p> </p><p>We round the next turn, and there--</p><p> </p><p>--”Hey, Will! Will! Where’re you running to, man?”</p><p> </p><p>God, not now! In the middle of the trail in front of us stands Andy, looking startled.</p><p>“Damnit, Andy, not now! Get out of the way!” I push my way past him.</p><p>“Whoa, man, slow down.” He grabs me by the arm and stops me. “What’s up, dude? Something wrong?”</p><p>“Just trust me man,” I snap, pulling away from him. “I gotta, go, it's--”</p><p>--Just then, two more shapes emerge from around the corner. Andy turns to look over at them. His eyes widen as they approach.</p><p> </p><p>“Holy shit! Dude! It’s fucking Samantha Reynolds!” He exclaims all too loudly, while pointing at the approaching woman and her servant.</p><p> </p><p>Samantha and Rider skid to a halt a few yards away.</p><p>“Caught you!” Samantha exclaims triumphantly.</p><p>“What?” Andy stares at her for a second, then at me, then back at her.</p><p> </p><p>“...Will.”</p><p> </p><p>“...Yes Andy?”</p><p> </p><p>His expression is stony and cold. “What’s going on here?”</p><p> </p><p>A crowd is beginning to gather, drawn by Andy’s earlier outburst. We have to do something--</p><p> </p><p>A) Get the hell out of here right away. We can’t afford to draw attention to ourselves, and I can make an excuse to Andy later.<br/>B) Try and talk our way out of the situation. Maybe we can use the crowd to distract them long enough to make an escape.<br/>C) Try and use this situation to our advantage. It could turn out badly though...</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0049"><h2>49. Chapter 49</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>C) Try to use this situation to our advantage</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>It’s another long shot, but hey, bullshitting hasn’t failed me so far.</p><p>“Ahahaha, we were just playing around, is all.” I say, scratching my head.</p><p> </p><p>Andy and Samantha both look at me blankly.</p><p> </p><p>I plow onwards. “Well, see, apparently Cassie and Sam over there know each other from awhile back, right Cassie?”</p><p>Caster perks up. “Yup!”</p><p>“And so we ran into each other kind of out of the blue back there, and were on our way to show them the way to their next class. Isn’t that right, Sam?”</p><p>I glance over at Samantha, and give her a look which I hope conveys play along, or we’re both fucked.</p><p> </p><p>A few tense seconds pass, and then, suddenly, Samantha’s demeanor changes completely, from tense and angry to a personable, friendly smile.</p><p>“Hahaha, right, right,” she says with an easy laugh. “Cassie has always loved to play around, hasn’t she?”</p><p>I notice (with some satisfaction) that Rider looks even more confused and angry than before at this recent turn. Samantha shoots him a glare and he holds his ground, continuing to glare at me.</p><p>I nod, smiling. “Well, then, I guess we should get going. Don’t want to be late on your first day!”</p><p>She nods as well. “Alright, but no running off this time!” she says with a laugh.</p><p>---She’s an actress to the core. Her previous persona has been completely subsumed under this new pleasant, friendly facade... it’s almost a little frightening.</p><p> </p><p>Andy is still standing there, speechless.</p><p>“Gotta run, man,” I say, patting him on the shoulder. “We’ll talk later, alright?”</p><p>He nods weakly. Without waiting for more of a response (and grateful that there wasn’t more) I walk off, Caster behind me, Samantha and Rider uncomfortably close behind us.</p><p> </p><p>---------------------</p><p> </p><p>As soon as we’re out of earshot I hear Samantha’s voice from behind me.</p><p>“Great, so now I’m supposed to be friends with these people? I knew I shouldn’t have let them leak that I was coming here, it’s only going to hurt my image even more...”</p><p>“Hmmm?” says Caster, without turning? “These people? Now who could they be...”</p><p>“Silence, Witch” grumbles Rider. “You’ll have your turn.”</p><p>The tension is beginning to rise again. Now what?</p><p> </p><p>A) Take them somewhere where we can fight safely. Might as well get this over with.<br/>B) Agree on a time and place to fight later. Then we can prepare, and discuss this with Claire as well<br/>C) Just get out of here. We’ve learned a few things about them now, we don’t want to risk giving anything else away about us.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0050"><h2>50. Chapter 50</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>B) Fight later.<br/></strong>
</p><p>Once we’re a safe distance away from anyone I stop and turn towards the two behind us. They stop, tensing in preparation, but I hold up my hand.</p><p> </p><p>“Listen. We can’t fight here. Not without being discovered.”</p><p>“Your point?” answers Rider contemptuously.</p><p>I decide to try my luck: “My point is that the Administrators don’t seem to like it when we move too... publicly.”</p><p>Samantha nods. “Yeah, he’s right.”</p><p>“So?” shoots back Rider. “What do you propose, then?”</p><p>“...Tonight,” I respond. “In the woods, just outside the park by the commercial district. We can fight there.”</p><p>“Or we could just kill you now, quietly, and save ourselves the trouble--”</p><p>“Oh?” interjects Caster. “I thought ‘nobility’ never turned down a challenge to a duel.”</p><p>“And what would you know about such things, Witch?”</p><p>---I’m not going to let this degenerate into fighting again. Time for more bluffing.</p><p>“I guess that’s too bad, then,” I say, shrugging. “It’s the best offer you’ll get from us. ---We could just take you out like we did Berserker.”</p><p> </p><p>Rider stiffens instantly. “You? Defeat Berserker?”</p><p>I just smile. “Tonight at midnight?”</p><p> </p><p>He is silent for a moment. His glare pierces the air between us, meeting my feigned expression of indifference.</p><p>“...Very well, rat,” he answers finally, scoffing. “I’ll grant you the honor of fighting me.”</p><p> </p><p>“--Wait a minute, Rider!” Samantha protests. “What are you--”</p><p>“Trust me.” Rider turns to her and speaks in a surprisingly soft voice. “We’ll have them begging at our mercy soon enough. Come, Señorita, let us leave these two commoners and find some better company.”</p><p>He turns with a flourish and begins to walk away, Samantha walking beside him.</p><p> </p><p>---------------------</p><p> </p><p>As soon as they’re out of sight I finally let my shoulders sag with relief. Dodged a bullet there.</p><p>“So tonight at midnight then,” Caster says, looking at me inquisitively.</p><p>“Yup... You know the place. I’ll leave the preparation to you.”</p><p>She grins. “Finally. I know exactly the thing to show that foppish bastard a little humility.”</p><p>---She seems to be enjoying herself at the thought.</p><p>I glance at my watch-- it’s almost 3. We’re supposed to meet up with Claire in the park in an hour.</p><p> </p><p>A) We don’t have anything else to do, I guess we should go ahead over there.<br/>B) We’ve got some time to kill, let’s walk around the commercial district a bit.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0051"><h2>51. Chapter 51</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>B) Let’s walk around the commercial district.<br/></strong>
</p><p>Caster and I meander down one of the main streets in the general direction of the park, just taking in the scenery. The Commercial District is crowded with the usual afternoon bustle of shoppers; mostly students at this time of day, as most classes have already let out by now.</p><p>--Really, its thanks to the college that we have such a great little shopping area as this. It’s got a fair selection of hip, high-end clothing stores that I can’t even afford to set foot into, some of the best restaurants around, and specialty stores for just about everything. The university basically owns the real estate, of course-- they get to put it in their recruitment brochures.</p><p> </p><p>As we pass by a particular store, however, Caster suddenly stops short.</p><p>“What? What is it? Is there a servant around?” I ask, walking up beside her.</p><p>“No...” Her head is cocked to one side, as if she was listening for something. She looks... confused, almost in wonderment at something.</p><p> </p><p>“What... what is that sound?” she asks, finally.</p><p>“Hmm?” I look up.</p><p> </p><p>--We’ve stopped in front of what happens to be one of my favorite stores in the district. It’s not as fancy as most around it, just a simple windowed storefront with a single painted sign hanging above the doorway-- “3rd Avenue Records.”</p><p>--Another thing you can thank the college for-- good music. This place is a haven for people like me who actually have musical taste. They carry mostly indie labels and local stuff, but they also have a huge collection of old records and... anyways, Andy and I often stop by here and listen to the new stuff that comes through every week, and comb through the old vinyl collections for hidden gems and such.</p><p>They also have a few tables outdoor for people to drink coffee, and a small PA system wired up pumping some album out to entice people on the street-- and it’s at one of these that Caster is staring.</p><p> </p><p>I listen for a moment. “...That would be ‘London Calling’, by the Clash... I guess they didn’t have music like that from when you come from, huh?”</p><p>“That is... music? ...It sounds...” Caster looks absolutely entranced. “Why is it... how is it playing here?”</p><p>I point at the store. “That’s a Record Store.”</p><p>“Record...Store?”</p><p>“Yea. They sell music like that.”</p><p>“They <em>sell</em> music? How...”</p><p>I guess recording techniques and music history weren’t included in the grail’s “need to know" information. Of course we don’t really have time to go into all that here and now--</p><p>But then again--</p><p>I look back over at Caster. She’s gazing through the front window, biting her lip as if vainly trying to hold back her curiosity. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to indulge her a little bit...</p><p>A) Take Caster into the record store. We can be a little late...<br/>B) We should keep moving-- there are more important things to be worried about now.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0052"><h2>52. Chapter 52</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>A) Take Caster into the record store.<br/></strong>
</p><p>---Oh what the hell. We’ve got some extra time.</p><p>“Come on, I’ll show you,” I say, motioning to the front door. She follows me inside to the dimly lit interior.</p><p> </p><p>--------------</p><p> </p><p>Part of the idea of the store is to expose people to new music, so they let you play just about anything in the store at players scattered around the aisles.</p><p>We find one in a corner near the back, where the aisles end and there are some scattered chairs and tables. I motion Caster to sit and hand her the pair of oversized, high-class headphones that was sitting on the table.</p><p>“Put these on.”</p><p>“What-- what are those?”</p><p>“Headphones...” she gives me a blank look. “...let me try to explain.”</p><p>I try to give a brief overview of how music recording and playback works. It’s not very thorough, but it seems to satisfy Caster.</p><p>“Ah, I see. So you store the music in these things?”</p><p>“Sort of...”</p><p>“Amazing... in my day, this would have been the domain of Magic, but now it is a simple as that... humanity has certainly advanced.” She takes the headphones and awkwardly places them over her ears. “Like this?”</p><p>“Yea. Now hold on, I’ll be right back.”</p><p> </p><p>---------------</p><p> </p><p>Caster’s appetite for music seems insatiable. I browse around the store, snapping up records and CDs and bringing them over to where Caster sits, headphones clamped on her head, listening. ---I try to give her a pretty good overview of the last hundred years or so of music-- from Duke Ellington to the Beatles to Zeppelin to Boston to modern and indie rock, with a few forays into Electronica and Punk along the way. Caster listens intently, occasionally humming or swaying with the music, and sometimes taking off the headphones and barraging me with questions about styles, genres, and groups.</p><p> </p><p>“You’ll have to excuse me,” she says at one point, “but music when I came from was a bit more... restrained. But this,” she motions towards the aisles “is so... different... it sounds alive, and there’s so much of it...”</p><p> </p><p>---I have to say, I’m really enjoying myself. It’s kind of nice to be explaining things to Caster for a change, and she’s such an attentive student that I totally lose track of time. By the time I think and look at my watch, it’s already almost five.</p><p> </p><p>Damn.</p><p> </p><p>I stand. “...I guess we better leave.”</p><p>“Hmm?” Caster takes her headphones off. “But I had just gotten to the solo--”</p><p>I point at my watch. She sags.</p><p>“Oh, that.” She takes the headphones off and places them softly on the table with a sigh. “I suppose you are right.”</p><p>...You don’t have to look that glum. “Hey, you know I have a bunch of music like this back at my place, right?”</p><p>She perks up. “Really?”</p><p>“Yea, even just on my laptop.”</p><p>“How do you fit it in there? These “CDs” aren’t that small--”</p><p>“Well--” No, forget it. I’m not even going to TRY to explain the Internet to her right now. “--I’ll explain later. Right now we need to go.”</p><p>She nods, and gets to her feet. I turn to walk back to the door.</p><p> </p><p>--“Hey, Will.”</p><p> </p><p>Caster’s voice stops me. I turn, and she skips up beside me, giving me a look that I can’t quite place but that makes something inside me jump a little.</p><p> </p><p>“--Thanks. That was a lot of fun.”</p><p> </p><p>“H-hey, no problem. I enjoyed it too,” I say, scratching my head. “You’re a pretty good student.”</p><p>She laughs softly. “I can be, when I’m interested. Now lets go. Claire will probably be angry by now,” she says as if the fact gave her some pleasure, as she heads for the door. I walk out along side her, and we head down the road towards the park.</p><p> </p><p>------------------</p><p> </p><p>“You’re LATE!”</p><p> </p><p>---Sure enough, Claire is a bit pissed when we walk in an hour late to our meeting place. She and Saber were lounging lazily on benches when we approached, and now Claire is standing with an enraged expression on her face, telling me off. Caster stands a bit behind me, looking disinterested.</p><p> </p><p>“...Sorry, we got a bit caught up in something,” I try to brush it off.</p><p>“A bit caught up? --No, nevermind, I don’t want to hear about it.”</p><p> </p><p>She slumps back down on her bench with a sigh. “Let’s just get on with this, shall we? Do you have anything to report since last night?”</p><p>Do we have anything to report? “That’s a bit of an understatement. Where to begin?”</p><p>---I relate to her the fight with Clemenson, Archer’s attempt on my life, and my encounter with Samantha and Rider this afternoon.</p><p>“...So we’ll probably be headed over there after this meeting.”</p><p>“Already?” She looks at her watch. “I’m guessing you’re not planning on a fair duel, then?”</p><p>“Of course not,” Caster interjects. “Remember my class. The unexpected is my specialty, after all.”</p><p>Claire nods. “Good. You shouldn’t have any problem taking him out, then. Although I would prefer if you could leave the Master alive? It would be useful if we could get some information on the Compact out of her.”</p><p>I nod. “Of course.” I’d like to avoid having to kill anyone anyways, especially a famous actress that would get lots of media coverage and an extensive investigation if she died... Rider, however, I don’t really have any qualms about erasing.</p><p> </p><p>“In that case,” Claire says suddenly, getting to her feet, “On to the next order of business.”</p><p> </p><p>She walks over to the edge of the bench, where I now notice a large, ornate briefcase sitting against it. She pulls it up (with some effort) and plunks it unceremoniously on the bench in front of me.</p><p>“I finally got clearance to use this thing,” she says, as she leans over and fiddles with a mechanism on the front, “so now we can get a better idea of what’s going on with you.”</p><p>“...What?” I’m confused. “What is that thing.”</p><p>--There is a click, and the top of the briefcase springs open, revealing an odd, steampunk-y device of copper tubing, dials, and wires. Some kind of lens in the middle is etched with a stylized approximation of the human body spread out.</p><p>Claire turns to me. “This thing,” she says, matter-of-factly, “is a Circuit Analyzer. Its one way the Association manages to get an accurate reading on the quantity and strength of a person’s magic circuits. --Or at least, mostly accurate. This is only a portable model, after all.”</p><p>“This is portable?” I look down at the mess of arcane circuitry.</p><p>“Anyways, I said I was going to get to the bottom of exactly what kind of magus-thing you are, and this is how I’m going to do it,” she says.</p><p> </p><p>--Caster just looks amused. “I do not think this will do much good,” she says.</p><p>“What was that?” says Claire.</p><p>“Oh, nothing, nothing,” answers Caster innocently. “Do not worry about me.” She walks off, whistling a few bars of what sounds like “Killer Queen.”</p><p> </p><p>“...Anyways,” says Claire, reaching into the box and holding up what looks like one of those caps on an electric chair. “Put this on so we can get started.”</p><p>---Gulp. I’m not sure about this thing.</p><p> </p><p>A) Go along with it. Maybe it can actually tell me something.<br/>B) I don’t trust this steampunk crap. Keep that thing away from me.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0053"><h2>53. Chapter 53</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>A) Go along with it.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>“...Alright. Hook me up.”</p><p> </p><p>----------------</p><p> </p><p>A few minutes later I’m sitting on the bench festooned with what must be hundreds of tiny little wires running from various points on my skin to the convoluted interior of the box.</p><p>“You sure you know what you’re doing with this thing?”</p><p>“Mostly,” replies Claire, as she fiddles with some knobs. “It’ll just be another second... there.”</p><p> </p><p>---With a hum, the machine in the briefcase comes to life. The dials spin, and the lens begins to project the hazy outline of a body in mid-air over the box. It appears hollow, with clear traces of what appears like a screwed up circulatory system inside it. It flickers as Claire adjusts a few more settings.</p><p>“Now,” she says, “You’ll feel a slight prickling. This is the machine creating some small magical feedback in order to set off your circuits. Don’t worry, it won’t hurt you.”</p><p>She turns a knob up. The box begins to hum, and immediately I feel the prickling she was talking about, like a bunch of little static shocks or small needles around the areas where she attached wires. ---It’s an odd feeling, but not too unpleasant.</p><p>Claire is looking at the flickering projection and frowning. “No... that’s not right... I’ll increase the feedback.”</p><p>She turns the dial again and the prickling increases. --OK, now it’s starting to feel weird.</p><p>But Claire is shaking her head. “No, still nothing. What’s going on here?” The projection hanging above the box rotates silently, portraying nothing but a hollow body.</p><p>Caster walks over and inspects the machine critically.</p><p>“...Try changing... oh what do you call it these days... the ‘prana resonance frequency.’ Turn it up.”</p><p>“Hm?” Claire looks up. “But it’s already set to human normal--”</p><p>“Exactly.”</p><p>Claire frowns. “...Alright, but I don’t think--”</p><p> </p><p>---She turns the knob. Without warning the prickling changes into a white hot stabbing pain entering me from a hundred places around my body. I let out a strangled yell.</p><p>“Wha? What the hell is this!” I can hear Claire almost yelling from beside me as the floating figure begins to pulse bright red.</p><p> </p><p>The pain shoots up in intensity. How long is this going to last? I can’t take this for to much longer--</p><p> </p><p>--and there’s a loud BANG from the machine as the glass lens in the middle explodes upwards in a shower of tiny shards. Claire leaps to the side just in time to avoid being caught up in it.</p><p> </p><p>The pain finally subsides. I slump back against the bench, sweating. Caster hurries over and places a hand on my forehead.</p><p>“I thought... you said... it wouldn’t hurt me...” I say, in between heaving breaths.</p><p> </p><p>Claire isn’t paying attention. She’s staring at the smoking wreckage of the machine.</p><p>“Oh, shit! Do you have any idea how much one of these things costs? Resources is going to have my head for this...”</p><p>“Well did you at least learn anything?” Caster must have used some kind of healing magic, because the fog in my head from whatever it was just happened has cleared. “Do I have any circuits or what?”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, you have circuits, alright,” replies Claire irritably, as she shoves wires back into the smoking suitcase. “--They just aren’t yours.”</p><p> </p><p>“What? How does that work?”</p><p>“You’re asking me?” She slams the suitcase shut and turns to me. “Supposedly, you’re a perfectly ordinary, nonmagical human being. Not a single circuit, not an ounce of magical potential. You’ve got a soul and an origin like you’re supposed to, and they’re plugged into nothing just like eighty percent of the rest of humanity.</p><p>“...And then you’ve got your magic circuits.” She plops down unceremoniously and rubs her eyes tiredly. “They aren’t attached to anything else as far as I could see before you blew out my machine,”-- she shoots me a glare-- “which explains why you can’t consciously use them. They’re just kind of... there. They’re kind of like a Magic Crest, except since you don’t have any natural circuits you can’t actually activate them. It seems your Command Spell automatically tied itself into it, so that must explain why you can provide Caster with mana, but other than that they’re just sitting there, brimming with mana with no place to go.”</p><p>Caster nods. “That was about as much as I could figure out as well.”</p><p>“What about that ‘prana resonance frequency’ thing,” I interject.</p><p>Claire shrugs. “Since the circuits aren’t yours, looking for normal body prana wouldn’t have set them off. Whatever’s powering them isn’t you, that’s for sure.”</p><p>I sigh. “So we’re back to square one then?”</p><p>“Yup... You are an interesting specimen, you know that?” She smiles. “I’d like to do some more research on you once this is all over with...”</p><p>... I don’t know if I like being referred to that way... I feel like a specimen waiting to be dissected...</p><p> </p><p>------------------</p><p> </p><p>I look at my watch-- it’s nearing six.</p><p>“So now what?”</p><p>“Well, don’t you two have a meeting to attend tonight?” Claire stands and stretches. “You two need any help with that, or can you take care of it by yourselves?”</p><p>I glance over at Caster, who smiles smugly. “I think we can handle it,” I reply.</p><p>“Alright. Then we’ll take care of our own investigations. Saber!”</p><p> </p><p>Saber opens one eye. “Oh, are you finished?”</p><p>“Yes. Come on, we’ve got work to do.”</p><p>“Yes, yes. I am coming.” Saber stands and stretches exaggeratedly. “I was beginning to think you’d never be finished.”</p><p>Claire crosses her arms in irritation. “Quiet, you.”</p><p> </p><p>I turn back to Caster. “So?”</p><p>“I suppose we should be off, then. I shall begin preparing the battlefield as soon as we arrive.”</p><p>“Alright, but...”</p><p>--Right on cue, my stomach starts to rumble. Hey, it’s six, and I haven’t eaten anything since before noon. I’m starving.</p><p>Caster sighs. “Well, I suppose you do not have to be present while I prepare. You may as well find yourself something to eat.”</p><p> </p><p>-----------------</p><p> </p><p>So here I find myself walking back into the Commercial District alone. --Caster put some kind of enchantment on me so that I won’t be recognized, but I still feel sort of uncomfortable by myself under the circumstances. But my stomach is stronger than my fear, so I push onwards.</p><p>The burning question is: where to eat?</p><p> </p><p>A) I’ll just grab some quick fast-food and bring it back to the park.<br/>B) I’ll grab some good take-out. And hey, maybe I’ll bring some back to Caster-- she may not have to eat, but she can’t dislike it, right?<br/>C) As long as I’m here I might as well get something good. I’ll go somewhere nice and sit down for a little while.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0054"><h2>54. Chapter 54</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>C) Go somewhere nice and sit down for a little while.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>There is that nice new Italian place that opened up down the road. Maybe I can afford to take a load off for a little while and eat some delicious pizza...</p><p>I start walking up the road. Since it’s around six, the streets are pretty crowded with people looking for a quick dinner, or on their way home from work.</p><p>So I’m not surprised when I bump into someone unseen.</p><p>“Whoops, sorry,” I say, quickly, turning to see whoever it is I hit.</p><p> </p><p>--I realize why I didn’t see this person coming. It’s just a little girl, probably around 11 or something. She’s dressed in an awfully expensive looking little coat (although given the area that’s not really surprising), with long brown hair spilling off the top of her head and a freckled face peaking out over her scarf... there’s something somehow familiar about her, but I can’t place it. Must just be my imagination.</p><p> </p><p>“Owwwie...” she says, rubbing her head. Oh dammit, I hurt a little girl. Now I feel really bad.</p><p>“Are you alright?” I ask, leaning over to look at her head. “I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there...”</p><p>“It’s alright, mister,” she says, suddenly breaking into a smile. “I ‘zoned out.’ My brother says I do that a lot.’</p><p>I can’t help but smile as well. Cute kid.</p><p>“I’m Anne. What’s you’re name?”</p><p>“Umm... Daniel,” I reply. Gotta stay incognito.</p><p>“Nice to meet you, Danny!” she says happily. She seems full of energy. “Say...” She digs her toe into the pavement in a successful attempt to seem extremely cute. “Do you think you could help me with something?”</p><p>“Sure, what?”</p><p>“...I’m kinda lost,” she says, sheepishly.</p><p>--I should have guessed. I don’t see anyone that looks like a parent around, and she’s still just too young to be wandering around the commercial district by herself.</p><p>“You want me to help you find your parents?” It’s the least I can do, having almost knocked her over and all.</p><p>“Oh, I don’t have those,” she says brightly.</p><p>...Whoops.</p><p>“I was here with my brother and our ‘guar-di-an’,” she enunciates the word as if it was practiced, “and I got separated...”</p><p>“Alright then, Anne, I’ll help you find them.”</p><p> </p><p>------------------------</p><p> </p><p>We search for an hour or so, to no avail. I end up forgoing my nice meal for hamburgers for Anne and I while we walked. --I guess whatever guise Caster put on me didn’t look too creepy-child-kidnapper-ish, as no-one seemed to think it odd I was with her.</p><p>Anne keeps up a steady stream of chatter as we walk-- I didn’t think a person could talk for that long at a stretch, even while they’re eating. I had to remind her, occasionally, to actually look for her brother and guardian.</p><p>--I was a bit curious about that, so I carefully breached the topic of her parents again. She seemed perfectly happy to talk about it.</p><p>“Oh, they went away when I was little,” she says. “They left us a bunch of stuff, though, so its not like we need money or anything. Jack says they’re coming back someday, but I don’t know if I believe him or not... now we just live with our ‘guar-dian.’”</p><p>“Guardian?”</p><p>“Yea, you know. We’re just kids, we gotta have an adult around. That’s what he’s here for. He’s taking care of our parent’s stuff and making sure we don’t get into trouble, Jack says.”</p><p>“Your brother seems pretty smart.”</p><p>“Oh, he is. We’re twins you know-- ‘fra-ternal’, of course.” She looks proud of knowing the word-- it’s pretty adorable.</p><p>We turn a corner, and suddenly Anne perks up. “Found them!” she cries, pointing across the street. ”Hey, Jack! Jack! There you are! We’re over here!” She waves her arms wildly in the air, trying to get their attention. I look towards where she pointed--</p><p> </p><p>---Time freezes. Standing across the street is a young boy, whose resemblance to Anne is unmistakable, glaring across at us with a familiar blank expression. Next to him stands an all-to-familiar figure in a sophisticated looking long coat, his piercing eyes and ruddy red hair poking out from underneath a woolen hat. --Archer and his Master, Jack Rensfield.</p><p> </p><p>Anne tugs at my sleeve. “C’mon, Danny! Its Jack and Archer! --Oh, he’s the ‘guar-dian’ I was telling you about-- C’mon, I’ll introduce you!”</p><p>I gulp.</p><p> </p><p>A) I guess I can trust Caster’s magic to keep them from recognizing me. I’ll play along, maybe I’ll learn something.<br/>B) It’s too risky, I’m going to bolt. They’ll never be able to track me in this crowd.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0055"><h2>55. Chapter 55</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>A) I’ll play along.<br/></strong>
</p><p>--Well, Caster’s magic hasn’t failed me yet. I guess it should keep them from recognizing me...</p><p> </p><p>I let Anne lead me over to where the two are standing. The two stand completely still, allowing us to cross the street and end up standing in front of them awkwardly.</p><p>“Anne,” Archer says, in a stern yet surprisingly paternal voice. “What did I tell you about when we’re in public?”</p><p>“...to stay close to you and not to wander off...” Anne mumbles.</p><p>“And what did you just do?”</p><p>Her words tumble out in a rush “...I couldn’t help it, there was this dress in a window and I wanted to get a closer look so I went over and--”</p><p>Archer holds up his hand. “No excuses. Please try and be more careful next time. It would not do for you to get lost.”</p><p> </p><p>Archer finally turns to me. “And who is this?”</p><p>“This is Danny," Anne replies, perking up. "He helped me find you guys.”</p><p> </p><p>I scratch my head awkwardly. “Hello, Mr.--”</p><p>“Archer.” He studies my face intently for a moment. I break out in a cold sweat, wondering if this was a good idea.</p><p>“And you are?”</p><p>“Daniel. Daniel Pendergrast.”</p><p>---But then, he breaks out into a smile.</p><p>“In that case, Daniel, I give you my thanks.” Archer gives me a short bow. “There are too few people left that will show such common courtesy.” His thanks are perfectly sincere.</p><p>“Hey, no problem. I just ran into her” --literally-- “and decided to help. It’s no big deal.”</p><p>“Still, it is wrong to not be rewarded for one’s good deeds, is it not?” Archer says with a frown. “I will have to make it up to you.”</p><p>“Ah, no sir, that won’t be necessary...” I protest. Damn, did I just call him sir?</p><p>Archer laughs. “A true... what is the word... Samaritan? You are a good man, Daniel.”</p><p> </p><p>--I can see, now, the real power Archer has. His demeanor and bearing both disarms you, demands your respect, and makes you want his approval. This is a man who others would follow even to the death.</p><p> </p><p>Archer turns back to Anne. “Now then,” he says, stern again, “thank Mr. Pendergrast for helping you.”</p><p>Anne turns to me. “Thanks, Dann--”</p><p>--A stern look from Archer.</p><p>“--Mr. Pendergrast.”</p><p>“Don’t mention it. I had a good time,” I reply with a smile.</p><p> </p><p>“Good. Then we must be off. We have business to attend to tonight.” Archer begins leading the two children off, but then stops as if considering something. He reaches into the pocket of his jacket and takes out a crisp card and holds it out to me.</p><p>--“In case you change your mind.”</p><p>I take the card. He smiles, then walks off, Jack and Anne following close behind him. Anne turns her head and waves secretively to me. I wave back, and watch their backs recede into the crowd.</p><p> </p><p>--------------------</p><p> </p><p>I trudge back towards the park, looking at the business card I had just been given. It’s a fancy one, and the center of the card is emblazoned with a familiar symbol like a golden horse in mid-gallop. Superimposed on top are the words:</p><p>---”Yassa Industries”</p><p>and in smaller font below it:</p><p>---”A Subsidiary of the Rensfield Group.”</p><p>On the corner of the card, in smaller, fancier script:</p><p>-----”Tamir Archer, President and CEO.”</p><p>with a phone number underneath. On the reverse side is an address-- one I don’t recognize, probably outside of the city proper.</p><p>--What a bizarre coincidence. I’m still not entirely sure what just happened. Did I really just get the address of our greatest opponent without any repercussions? And what was up with those kids?</p><p>I mull over this as I cross the edge of the park and enter the woods.</p><p> </p><p>-------------</p><p> </p><p>After a little searching I emerge at the edge of the clearing where our “meeting” is scheduled to be. It’s a little after 9.</p><p>I can see Caster in the middle of the field. She’s crouched on the ground with her back to me, and seems to be fiddling with something.</p><p> </p><p>A) Call out to her.<br/>B) Go over and see what she’s doing.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0056"><h2>56. Chapter 56</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>B) Go over and see what she’s doing.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>I wonder what she’s got there. I don’t want to interrupt her, so I start across the field to check it out.</p><p>--As I reach about halfway into the field I hear a sudden small sound. Caster jumps to her feet and whirls around</p><p>“DON’T STEP THERE--”</p><p>But its already too late, my foot is already on its way down.</p><p>Instantly the ground around me becomes covered in glowing, interlocking magical symbols which begin to rotate in time around me. I can feel the air crackling with power and heating around me--</p><p>--But Caster throws up a hand and yells something incomprehensible, and the symbols lock into place, the ground returning to its original state.</p><p> </p><p>I sag with relief. I thought I was in trouble there for a second--</p><p>“Will!”</p><p>--Or maybe I still am. Caster is stalking over to me, as the arcane sigil below me fades from view.</p><p> </p><p>She reaches me. “What in the world were you thinking?” she admonishes me. “You almost set off the whole chain! I would have had to re-do the whole thing!”</p><p>“...well I’m unhurt, thanks for asking” I say, glumly avoiding her eyes.</p><p>She sighs. “Luckily, I stopped it before you set it off... but it would not have harmed you anyways. I am skilled enough to set a trap that will not catch the wrong person. Now go... sit by a tree or something, and let me finish!”</p><p>“Alright, alright...” Dejectedly I walk towards the edge of the clearing and sit down against a tree.</p><p> </p><p>-------------------</p><p> </p><p>After another half an hour or so Caster finally finishes her setup.</p><p>--It’s interesting watching her work. I’m not entirely sure what she’s doing most of the time, drawing signs in the dirt, scratching things into trees, and occasionally creating glowing sigils that fade as soon as they are drawn-- but whatever it is, it’s impressive.</p><p>Finally she walks over and sits down next to me.</p><p>“Finished?” I ask.</p><p>“Yes,” she says, sounding tired. “We are ready.”</p><p>“Good.”</p><p>--I suppose now is as good a time as any to bring it up. I pull Archer’s business card out of my pocket and hand it to Caster, who takes it with a puzzled look on her face.</p><p>“...What is this?”</p><p> </p><p>----I relate to her the story of my meeting with Anne and her “guardian”.</p><p> </p><p>Caster sighs as I finish. “You really do take some ridiculous risks, don’t you? But you seem to have come out of this one with some vital information.”</p><p>“Yea... we’ll have to follow up on this after we finish with this problem.”</p><p>“Agreed.” Caster leans back against the tree and closes her eyes.</p><p>--We still have an hour or so before the appointed time. Not much else to do but talk to Caster.</p><p>I should--</p><p>A) Ask her about her ambush setup.<br/>B) Ask her about her opinion of the other masters and servants.<br/>C) Ask her about her past.<br/>D) Ask her how she’s doing.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0057"><h2>57. Chapter 57</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>A) and D)<br/></strong>
</p><p>“You doing alright?” I ask Caster.</p><p>“Hmm?” She looks up at me, confused. “Me?”</p><p>“You just look kind of tired.”</p><p>“Ah, well.” She looks down. “Despite your mana supply, such a complex trap mechanism does take considerable effort to set up... do not worry, an hour’s rest is all I need to be back at full capacity.”</p><p>“Oh, OK... that’s good.”</p><p>I lean back against the tree and think for a few minutes before speaking again.</p><p> </p><p>“....So how does this thing work, anyways? This trap of yours?”</p><p>“...It’s complicated in theory, but simple in practice.”</p><p> </p><p>She points to the side of the field where I entered. “I created a boundary field around this clearing and left only one entrance, there, which I can open and close at will. I then converted the area into a Manse, which expands my total Mana capacity and gives me control of the flow of Mana into the area, which should weaken the opposing servant-- although he’s likely aware I will attempt that and will have some countermeasure. It will also allow me to use my Noble Phantasm if necessary, although I would prefer to avoid doing so.”</p><p>“So what do I have to do?”</p><p>“Nothing. When they enter the field, we will stand across from one another in the center. When I activate the sigil beneath us, it will immediately remove you and the enemy master from the battlefield, allowing me to fight Rider without concern.”</p><p>“--Wait, so Samantha will be teleported out too?”</p><p>“...Unfortunately, yes. It is a pity, but as you said before, her death would attract too much unwanted attention to the city and to us. Fortunately Rider should not pose any real threat to me. Your job will be to simply subdue her when you both leave the field-- a simple task, given that she did not seem particularly athletic before.”</p><p>I nod.</p><p>"...There is more, but that is all that is necessary for you to understand. And I do not wish to bore you with the technical details."</p><p>“Alright, that seems simple enough...” I stretch out against the tree. Caster seems content without speaking, so I guess I should let her rest.</p><p> </p><p>I close my eyes. Maybe I should grab a little rest too...</p><p> </p><p>-----------------<br/><em></em></p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>-----<strong>”The King Is Dead!”</strong></em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>The cry reached around the kingdom. The king was dead, and there was no heir.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>--Of course, you already know this story: the former king did have an heir, hidden away with a relative, who would grow up to complete the challenge set forth by the king’s Sorcerer, to surpass the greedy Lords which scrabbled for power and take her rightful place.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>--------<strong>”Long live the King!”</strong></em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>They said she drew the sword as naturally as unsheathing it, and that the Lords of the kingdom fell to their knees at the sight and swore their fealty on the spot. --In actuality, it was probably not so picturesque, but what matters was that the kingdom had its king. A king who would change the course of history, whose name and accomplishments would live on through the ages.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>--The word reached that remote castle late, as most news did, but it warmed her heart to hear it: the newly crowned king wished all his Knights to be present in his new capital, to make up a new court which would promote equality and respect amongst all the king’s vassals. Her husband was displeased, but she was ecstatic-- the king’s court, filled with people from all around the kingdom, with knights and courtesans and Lords and emissaries from far away... it would be different, so different than this cold prison she had been trapped in for so long.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She thought back fondly on the one now called King-- she knew her only as a babe, as a quiet, determined little child, only half her own blood but whom she still considered family. She looked forward to meeting her again, that child that ran with her in the forests, once, years and years ago.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Yes, things will be better now, she thought to herself, as they prepared for the journey south. It will...</em>
</p><p>
  <em>will...</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Will?...</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p><em></em><br/>-----------------</p><p> </p><p>“Will?</p><p> </p><p>Will!”</p><p> </p><p>“...huwuh? Whuzzat?”</p><p> </p><p>--I’m woken by the sound of my name being called. Groggily, I open my eyes.</p><p> </p><p>It’s dark, the only illumination the dull silvery glow of the moon filtering down into the clearing. Caster is standing over me, looking annoyed.</p><p>“Will!”</p><p>“Yeah, yeah, I’m awake.” I rub my eyes.</p><p>“Gods, Will, you need to be more cautious. You can’t just fall asleep like that. They’re almost here.”</p><p>“What?” I snap awake. “They are?”</p><p>Caster nods. “They have just entered the forest. They will be here within five minutes.”</p><p>I get to my feet. “Alright. Sorry about that...” That dream... I can’t shake it from my head...</p><p>“Will? Is something the matter?”</p><p>“Hm? No, no, its nothing.” I shake my head. I guess she noticed me looking at her strangely or something. --I don’t have time to be thinking about weird dreams now. After this is over, I’ll have time to put the pieces together...</p><p>We take our positions on the far side of the field from the “entrance.” Caster draws a circle around us in the leaves with her foot.</p><p>“Stay inside this,” is all she says, as the air around us takes on the familiar hazy quality of her invisibility spell.</p><p> </p><p>--Across the clearing, Rider comes striding into view, Samantha following a short distance behind. They stop a short distance in.</p><p>“Well?” calls out Rider, after a moment’s silence. “We are here, as promised.”</p><p>Caster mumbles something, and the leaves around us are picked up by a sudden wind, swirling up around us with increasing fury as the haze slowly fades away before ceasing suddenly, leaving us standing in full view.</p><p> </p><p>--“Oh please,” Rider scoffs. “Spare us the theatrics.”</p><p>Caster just smiles.</p><p>--“I suppose, then, that you have this whole field rigged up just the way you want it as well,” Rider says with a sigh, before reaching for one of the swords at his belt. “No matter.” He draws it out-- it’s Colada, his first sword. Tizona remains in its scabbard.</p><p>Samantha backs up nervously. I hold my ground. Caster looks on, her smile unmoving.</p><p>“Well, witch?” says Rider, gesturing with his sword before assuming a fencer’s stance. “Shall we?”</p><p>“--Very well.”</p><p>Caster utters a single phrase and the ground below us flashes a bright silver. I only have a moment to wonder before I feel myself falling----</p><p> </p><p>---------------</p><p> </p><p>I come to my senses to find myself standing in between the trees. --A quick look around shows me that I’m currently some 15 yards outside of the clearing. Between it and me, stretching between the trees that border it, is a shimmering translucent wall, through which I can faintly see Caster and Rider facing off.</p><p>--But I have a job to do to. I can see Samantha standing looking disoriented some fifty feet away. Caster said she’d be like this for a short while, I need to act fast I should--</p><p> </p><p>A) Get out my gun and threaten her to stay still.<br/>B) Try and restrain her physically while she’s disoriented.<br/>C) Try and talk to her</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Status Screen Updated!</p><p><strong>Servant Caster</strong><br/>Noble Phantasm(s):<br/>Currently Unknown. Requires a bounded field in order to activate.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0058"><h2>58. Chapter 58</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>B) Restrain her while she’s disoriented</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>--There’s no time to lose. I rush over to behind where Samantha stands dazedly and grab her wrists, trying to twist her arms behind her in an attempt to hold her. It’s an awkward position, though, and I’m not sure exactly how to correctly keep a hold of someone like this.</p><p>“Hey, what?” Samantha comes to her senses, probably because of me. “What are you doing? Let go!”</p><p>She starts to struggle, trying to twist her arms out of my grasp, but my positioning and the fact that I’m not a skinny hundred some pound actress means that I manage to keep a grip on her.</p><p>That is, until--</p><p>**THUD**</p><p>Her foot comes up behind her and makes contact with-- well, you know the place.</p><p>I say the only thing a man can in this situation--</p><p>“FUCK!”</p><p>--And double over reflexively. It wasn’t even a hard hit, but a hit there is a hit there.</p><p>But I can’t let this hold me back! I look up, but as I’m preparing to grab her again I see her draw a canister of something out of her purse and hold it up at me.</p><p>I freeze.</p><p>”Don’t you fucking move!” she yells hysterically. ”I’ll fucking melt your fucking eyes out!”</p><p>---Oh Jesus Christ, is that what I think it is? If I get that shit in my face I'm done for.</p><p>I hold my arms down at my side. She's about two yards away, canister pointed directly at my face. My pistols are still inside my jacket-- can I get to them without getting sprayed first? I’ll--</p><p> </p><p>A) Close my eyes and go for the guns. Hopefully I’ll make it.<br/>B) Try and distract her and go for the guns. I have to get that can out of my face.<br/>C) Try and talk her down.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0059"><h2>59. Chapter 59</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>----------------------------<br/>Interlude 3<br/>----------------------------</p><p> </p><p>The clearing is still and silent but for the two figures who stand face to face across it and the shimmering, flickering barrier which separates them from the outside world.</p><p>“Do not worry,” Caster says, her voice dripping with mock-concern. “Your pretty little master is safe outside the barrier.”</p><p>“Oh?” Rider responds, matching her tone. “Could it be that the witch has gone soft?”</p><p>“Hardly,” Caster snorts. “My master can handle that little wench without my help.”</p><p>She can see Rider stiffen slightly at the insult, and she smiles as he tightens his grip on his sword.</p><p>“Well?” she says, finally. “Are you going to put some muscle behind those flowery words of yours? --Or are they as empty as your head?”</p><p> </p><p>--Rider lunges forward, his movement so quick that no human eye could track him. Will would have been skewered in an instant--</p><p> </p><p>But Caster is no ordinary human. The instant Rider moves she kicks off the ground, soaring into the air above the clearing. Around where her feet stood a moment ago, silvery sigils begin to glow and interlock and swirl, an etherial mechanism carefully crafted over hours beginning to activate...</p><p>An instant too late Rider arrives where Caster stood. Clicking his tongue in annoyance, he stares up at where Caster floats, staff in hand, her cloak flared outwards like raven’s wings--</p><p> </p><p>--Raven’s wings?</p><p> </p><p>He looks around him in confusion. From the depths of her cloak are spilling hundreds of black feathers, which furl out near the ground as if carried by a heavy wind to whirl around the clearing like a mass of winged beasts in flight.</p><p>“What is this, witch?” Rider snarls in fury. “Is this the trick you prepared for me?”</p><p>Caster just smiles wickedly as she sinks back into the tempest of swirling blackness which has grown to obscure the entire field within itself.</p><p>--He feels himself being swallowed up by it, but he holds his ground. It’s a witch’s trick, he thinks. He has to watch for her attack--</p><p>He leaps to the side as something massive drives its way into the earth beside him.</p><p>“Oh-ho.” He can still hear her voice from the darkness. It is untraceable, as if coming from everywhere at once. “You have some skill, at least.”</p><p>He moves again, to the sound of more impacts, each closer and closer to hitting its target. He can dodge them, but it is slowly becoming more difficult, as the darkness begins to suck away all sensation-- light, sound, touch, everything is lost to it.</p><p>--How long can he continue...</p><p> </p><p>----------------------------</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>B) try and distract her and go for a gun.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Alright. Stay calm, Will. You can handle this.</p><p>“Easy there. Easy,” I say, holding my hands out where she can see them. “I’m not doing anything. See?”</p><p>Samantha stands silent and unmoving, a look of anger and fear twisting her face; I can tell she’s not really thinking clearly right now. If she’s scared and cornered, she’s probably pretty dangerous --but fortunately for me, I’ve had a little more experience with tense situations like these recently.</p><p> </p><p>--I start to back up slowly. She stiffens, her hand tightening on the can.</p><p>“Whoa, easy there. I’m going. Take it easy--”</p><p>I glance around with my eyes for something, anything I could use as a distraction.</p><p>“I’m not going to do anything, I’m just leaving--”</p><p>--There. There’s a good sized tree to my left. A few more steps and I’ll be just past it...</p><p>“See? I’m not doing anythi--”</p><p> </p><p>---I throw myself to the side with all my strength, trying to put the tree trunk in between me and her.</p><p> </p><p>I barely make it. I can hear the stream of liquid hitting the other side of the bark. I turn, putting my back against the tree, smelling the acrid smell of the spray. I close my eyes, praying that the mist won’t make its way around the tree and still blind me, and reach into my jacket and draw out one of my pistols.</p><p>From here, I could see the barrier that Caster had set up-- either she made it opaque, or she’s currently got one hell of an illusion up. Either way, she seems to have it under control. Now’s not the time to wonder, got to focus on the crazy chick with the mace right now.</p><p>Does she even have any left? I can’t hear it spraying anymore, and from the sound of it she hasn’t moved yet. She could have run out already, but there’s no way for me to be sure.</p><p>Anyways, I have to do something--</p><p> </p><p>A) Step out quickly, gun drawn.<br/>B) Call out to her from here and threaten her.<br/>C) Stay silent, gun ready, and wait for her to approach.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0060"><h2>60. Chapter 60</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>----------------------------<br/>Interlude 3<br/>----------------------------</p><p> </p><p>*Thunkthunk*</p><p>Two more impacts to either side of him. He dodges, narrowly. His noble regalia is becoming tattered by near-misses.</p><p> </p><p>But he remains alert. He has to find her in this darkness. He curses his luck, having to fight a woman such as this in such an enclosed space-- the worst situation for his class.</p><p> </p><p>“How does it feel, Knight?” Caster’s voice echoes through the darkness. ”Come on, fight me! Your ‘noble spirit’ is disgraced by this pitiful conduct.”</p><p>He ducks under an unseen projectile, throwing himself to the ground.</p><p>”Oh? Prostrating yourself before me? Expecting mercy? I thought such was unseemly for your class?”</p><p>“Hardly.” He scrambles back to his feet.</p><p> </p><p>--This fight is already over. He cannot win like this. He may as well just fall to his knees and plead for mercy. --But yet he stands, defiant, a strange new look in his eyes.</p><p> </p><p>“Alright, Witch,” he calls out into the darkness that surrounds him. “I will concede this much-- it appears I underestimated you.”</p><p>“Oh?” Her voice echoes through the darkness.</p><p>--Rider smiles. “Yes. --Truly, you are more devious and cruel than I had expected. A perfect trap. You have my admiration.”</p><p>“I’m truly honored by your appraisal,” Caster’s voice replies mockingly.</p><p>“But--” and Rider holds up a finger, “--that means that you made a miscalculation.”</p><p> </p><p>--He reaches down, slowly, and lowers his sword.</p><p> </p><p>“I am a nobleman,” he says. “I am a knight. I commanded men. I conquered cities. But I am not the pig-headed noble who sits on the laurels of the past. You think that any of them reached the Seat of Heroes? You think I drove out the Moors with only a horse and a sense of entitlement? Oh no. Nothing of the sort.”</p><p> </p><p>--The only sound in the clearing is the soft sound of metal on cloth as the nobleman slowly sheaths his sword.</p><p> </p><p>*CLICK*</p><p> </p><p>--He flicks open the clasp that held his second sword in place.</p><p> </p><p>“You see, witch, I understand as well. I understand what kept-- what keeps nobility in power. I understand how to drive men before me, how to conquer, how to keep, how to rule.”</p><p> </p><p>--Gone are the exaggerated flourishes, the theatrics, the boasts. The Rider left standing in the field is deadly serious, and a dark fire is burning behind his eyes. ”You think you understand fear, witch, and for that I applaud you.”</p><p> </p><p>He gives a mocking smile of his own and begins to slowly draw out the other blade.</p><p> </p><p>---”Let me give you a lesson in it of my own, eh?”</p><p> </p><p>----------------------------</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>C) Stay silent and wait for her to approach.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>I keep my back to the tree, gun held close to my body, tense and at the ready. I can hear her begin to approach. I try to keep my breathing steady, and try not to think that I may have to fire on this girl in order to save myself.</p><p>The enchantment on the gun means I can’t miss-- I have to aim for at least a non-lethal area. But then she could still get me in court... but killing her would be even worse, and I don’t want to do that anyways... I guess I’ll have to try to hold her up or something.</p><p>She’s nearing the edge of the tree. I tense, ready to move, and--</p><p> </p><p>-----Without warning, a wave of... something passes through me.</p><p> </p><p>What... what is this... I look towards the field where Caster and Rider fight, and to my surprise I can see the darkness which formerly filled the field begin to flicker and waver, becoming patchy and thin, disintegrating into little floating particles which rain to the ground, staining it black.</p><p> </p><p>And through the darkness, I can see a single point of harsh silver light shining through, becoming brighter and brighter--</p><p> </p><p>--I can’t tear my eyes away. It is held aloft, shining a godly silver in the moonlight. I can read the words etched in gold down the length of the blade: “<strong>AVE MARIA ~ GRATIA PLENA ~ DOMINUS TECUM.”</strong></p><p> </p><p>My gut churns. My body won’t move. My heart is racing. I am trapped by simply the sight of that magnificent sword. Even at this distance, I can feel its power. I can’t think. Fear grips my intestines and twists.</p><p>That sword is dangerous.<br/>That sword is powerful.<br/>That sword will kill me.<br/>I am deathly afraid of that sword.<br/>That sword will kill me.<br/>I can't move.<br/>That sword will kill me.<br/>That sword will kill me.</p><p> </p><p>--That must be it. It can only be the other sword of El Cid Campeador--</p><p> </p><p>------------------------------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>--“Tizona.”</p><p> </p><p>Rider speaks the word aloud, softly, as he admires his sword in the moonlight.</p><p>“You see,” he says thoughtfully, “fear is the tool of the noble. Fear is the way we hold power, fear is the way we keep power, fear is the way we take power. Of course, it’s not fair at all, but what is in this world? History showed, after all, that I was never too cruel. I was just, and I earned my titles. But I used my power.</p><p>"And this little sword here? This is the embodiment of that power.”</p><p> </p><p>--Caster’s illusion is faltering. The blackness is thinning. Finally, he can see her, standing defiantly across the field from him.</p><p> </p><p>He begins to approach.</p><p> </p><p>“Illusions are... useful tools, yes. But there’s nothing behind it! If you want to make someone truly afraid, you need sheer power. That is pure fear.”</p><p> </p><p>--Caster’s stance has become unsteady. She’s leaning on her staff. Her eyes are wide. Shakily, she raises her hands, yelling in the speech of the gods, but Rider deflects her poorly-aimed bolts with ease.</p><p> </p><p>Her voice falters. Even she can no longer seem to summon up the courage to move under the fearsome light of the sword held aloft in Rider’s grasp. It’s taking all she has just to keep her feet. Her eyes are wide, staring at the blade raised now only a few paces away from her--</p><p> </p><p>------------------------------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>“...Cas...ter.”</p><p> </p><p>I can see her now. She’s barely keeping her feet. Rider is approaching with that sword. That sword. That sword. He’s going to use it-- he’s going to kill her.</p><p>That sword will kill her. It will kill me. It will kill her. It will kill me. It will kill her. It will kill me. It will kill her--</p><p> </p><p>---He’s going to kill her.</p><p> </p><p>No! Damnit! Move! I have to--</p><p> </p><p>A) Help her!<br/>B) Run!</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0061"><h2>61. Chapter 61</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>A) Help her!</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>I can’t... let it end... not like this...</p><p> </p><p>--With all my strength I raise my shaking arm.</p><p> </p><p>Dammit Will... get it together...</p><p> </p><p>--He’s getting closer to her. Ten Paces. Nine. Five.</p><p> </p><p>Ignore the sword. It’s just an illusion too. Fear can be overcome. Come on. Just a little bit more.</p><p> </p><p>--Four Paces. Three. Two. The sword is raised. His face is impassive, blank. The face of an executioner. Caster is on her knees, motionless, her staff fallen from her hands, her eyes blankly staring upward.</p><p> </p><p>There... now... just... say... it...</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>---It all happens in an instant.</p><p>The sword begins to fall.</p><p>I whisper, quietly, as much as I can force myself to speak: ”Caster... no... get...”</p><p>--And Caster’s face twists into a grin.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>A dull wet sound resounds through the forest.</p><p>....From the ground at Caster’s feet has emerged a stake of glowing light that has entered Rider through the chest, cleaving through armor and emerging below his shoulder.</p><p>He coughs.</p><p>Another sound.</p><p>This one comes from the sky, entering his intact shoulder, cleanly severing his arm and embedding itself into the ground.</p><p>Another, quicker.</p><p>This one--</p><p>But then another. And another. And another. And soon the noble knight, the Servant Rider, is no more then a pincushion suspended in a mass of harsh, pulsing light.</p><p> </p><p>--Lightly, Caster gets to her feet, dusting off the hem of her dress in an unconcerned manner. The fear which gripped her just a moment ago has vanished from her face, replaced with an aura of implacable coldness as she walks from the field. As she steps over the boundary she had previously created, the lances holding Rider shatter, and his body is unceremoniously dumped to the ground.</p><p>She reaches me, still half-seated on the ground against the tree. She stands, tall and cold, her silver and black lit with a halo of moonlight, and I wonder just who or what it is that I’ve become bound to here...</p><p> </p><p>---”Rider!”</p><p> </p><p>The spell is broken by Samantha’s desperate shout. I look over to see her running towards the field, towards the fallen body of her Servant.</p><p> </p><p>“Are you injured?” Caster asks me, her voice back to its usual tone.</p><p>“N...no, I’m fine. Just a bit shaken.”</p><p>I get to my feet. Caster nods.</p><p>“Good. I apologize... I had planned to keep him contained better, but it appears I underestimated the strength of his Noble Phantasm’s effect...”</p><p>Underestimated? I want to yell. But I keep my mouth shut. I’m still not entirely sure what to think.</p><p>“In any case,” says Caster, glancing up towards the clearing, “we are going to have to do something about her...”</p><p> </p><p>----------------------------<br/>Interlude 4<br/>---------------------------</p><p> </p><p>---”Rider!”</p><p> </p><p>He hears her voice approaching, but he is unable to turn his head to see her. A pity.</p><p>She runs to his fallen body. It lays in a heap on the ground, stained red with blood, ragged and torn. But his body, at least is mostly intact. She sees him and gasps in horror.</p><p>--He is unsure, for a moment, whether she will still come to him. But she does come, and cradles his head in her lap.</p><p> </p><p>He coughs. “My apologies, Senorita...” His voice is soft and halting. “It appears... I may have to bow out... a little early... from this one...”</p><p>“Don’t... don’t say that...”</p><p>“Do not... hold it against me... you still have enough...” he breaks down coughing again.</p><p>--He should be gone by now. He his held together by nothing but willpower and his boundless arrogance, daring the world to take him back before he is finished.</p><p>“You... have the strength... to move on... by yourself. You never really needed... the grail... or me... anyways...” he laughs, softly, and the laugh turns into coughing.</p><p>“Cid...” Are those tears or sweat or blood which catch the moonlight on her face?</p><p> </p><p>“Goodbye...Senorita...” he says, closing his eyes. “My name... was Rodrigo Díaz de Vivar. I did not die in battle before... how fitting... that I should... do so... now...”</p><p> </p><p>-------------------------</p><p> </p><p>--We reach the clearing in time to see the Rider’s body finish dissolving into a fine golden mist that floats away on the breeze and dissipates into nothing, leaving no trace that a body had ever fallen here. Samantha is kneeling on the ground, her back to us. Caster takes a step forward, but I hold out my arm and stop her. --We shouldn’t interrupt this.</p><p>Finally, Samantha stands and turns to us. Her face is set, resolute.</p><p>“Well?” she says. “Now what?”</p><p>“...Now nothing. You can go,” I say simply. What else can I say? Sorry for killing your servant, who you obviously cared for? Not like it wasn’t really in sort of self defense, but its not exactly something you can come back so easily from.</p><p> </p><p>“Now nothing? Nothing?” she replies emptily. “Yeah. Nothing. I just walk away. Like nothing.”</p><p>“...It’s over, Samantha," I say. "We don’t want any--”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>*THUMP*</strong>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>What?</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>*THUMP*</strong>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>What is... this?</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>*THUMP*</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>I fall to my knees.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>*THUMP*</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Caster is... running towards me.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>*THUMP*</strong>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>It hurts.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>*THUMP*</strong>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Something is... writhing... inside my chest.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>*THUMP*</strong>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>My vision is tunneling... fading.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>*THUMP*</strong>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>What is... this? It feels--</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>*THUMP*</strong>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>just like--</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>*THU--*</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>---------------------------------<br/>Day 6 11/8<br/>---------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>Mmmm... it’s warm...</p><p>--I roll over.</p><p>So bright... though... What time is it anyways.</p><p>I open my eyes slowly. I’m laying in my bed in our hotel room, as usual.</p><p> </p><p>Caster is sitting beside the bed, watching me intently.</p><p>--I feel like I’ve seen this somewhere before...</p><p>“...is this going to become a trend?” I say weakly, “Because I don’t think I like it.”</p><p> </p><p>Caster smiles, looking relieved. “Let’s hope not. You gave us quite a scare there.”</p><p>“...I did?”</p><p>“Yes. You collapsed after we defeated Rider, remember?”</p><p>“...I did?”</p><p>“Yes, you did.”</p><p> </p><p>--I search back in my memory. The trap in the clearing, almost getting maced by Samantha, trying to save Caster, Rider’s gristly demise, and then...</p><p>Then...</p><p> </p><p>I shake my head. “I... don’t remember.”</p><p>A look or concern crosses Caster’s face. “How far do you remember?”</p><p>“...We walked up and saw Samantha kneeling... and then I woke up here, as far as I know.”</p><p>Caster frowns. “I see...”</p><p> </p><p>--I remember something. “What happened, then? After I... collapsed?”</p><p> </p><p>Caster sighs. “Not much. I was concerned with your condition, so I allowed the girl to leave on her own. She left after watching us for a few minutes. I brought us back here, and have been trying to figure out what was wrong with you since.”</p><p>“And you better be freaking grateful, because we’ve been working for nothing all night,” says Claire.</p><p>“Hey, its not like I--”</p><p> </p><p>--Wait a second. Claire?</p><p> </p><p>I bolt upright. Claire is kneeling at the foot of the bed. She seems to be fiddling with something, and several wires are running up the bed-- connected, I quickly discover, to spots on my chest. On the other side of the room, Saber is lounging on one of the couches, looking disinterested as usual.</p><p>“--wait, what the hell is she doing here?”</p><p> </p><p>Caster sighs. “I met her bringing you back here. She wanted to speak with us about something, and when she saw you she demanded that she be allowed to take a look at you as well... I decided it was easier to let her than to fight her off, as per your orders to not harm them.” --she smiles slightly.</p><p>“What? I don’t want my ally dying on me, do I?” Claire irritatedly replies, without looking up from her device. “Plus it’s a good chance to try and figure out what makes your circuits tick again.”</p><p> </p><p>I sigh and slump back in bed. “Am I naked again?” I ask Caster, as I stare up at the ceiling.</p><p>“Of course. You were quite feverish for a bit last night. That died down a few hours ago, though, and you were sleeping peacefully ever since.</p><p>Alright. At least now I know not to stand up again. “And did either of you find anything?”</p><p> </p><p>--Silence.</p><p> </p><p>“...I’ll take that as a no, then. So basically I collapsed for no reason?”</p><p>“...You collapsed because your body... rejected you.” Caster replies uncertainly.</p><p>“...What?”</p><p>“It... your body was rebelling against you. I cannot explain it, or why it happened. It just... stopped. Your heart was racing, your organs began to fail, you stopped breathing...” Caster shakes her head. “Had I not been there with you, you would probably have died. No, you certainly would have died.”</p><p>“Oh, is that all?” I sit up, dejectedly.</p><p>“Do not worry, you are fine now. I regenerated your internal injuries, and whatever was causing it to occur has ceased... You seem to be in perfect health again.”</p><p>“Good. Then toss me some pants, will you?”</p><p> </p><p>“Hold up,” Claire says, finally looking up from her device. “Can I try this first?”</p><p>--Oh god no. Do I really want to be subjected to another one of her machines?”</p><p> </p><p>A) Let her try it.<br/>B) Hell no. Put some pants on instead.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Status Screen Updated</p><p>
  <strong>Servant Rider-- DEFEATED</strong>
</p><p>Master- Samantha Reynolds<br/>True Name- El Cid Campeador<br/>Sex- Male<br/>Alignment- Neutral Good</p><p>Strength- B-<br/>Endurance- B<br/>Agility- A<br/>Mana- D<br/>Luck- B<br/>Noble Phantasm: B</p><p>Class Abilities:<br/>Riding: A</p><p>Skills:<br/>Unknown</p><p>Noble Phantasms:<br/>Tizona- A holy sword that causes uncontrollable fear in those Rider considers “unworthy.” Although not physically powerful, its simple presence carries powerful psychological attack that can incapacitate all but the strongest wills.</p><p>Colada- A holy sword. Although a noble phantasm, its actual powers are quite weak, with no special abilities</p><p>Babieca- A mighty warhorse. While riding it, El Cid can move and strike at insane speeds.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0062"><h2>62. Chapter 62</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>A) Let her try it</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>...I’m still a little nervous about what happened last time, but considering that I apparently almost died a little while ago I shouldn’t refuse a chance to figure something out.</p><p> </p><p>“...Alright, go ahead.”</p><p>“Good, now hold still.” Claire does something with the bit she’s holding and a sudden glow appears around her hands.</p><p> </p><p>“Damn.” She twists a nob and the static ceases, the machine dying in her hands.</p><p>“Find anything?” Caster asks.</p><p>“Not yet,” replies Claire. “No traces of magical or normal poison, no magical residue, no curses, nothing.”</p><p>“I believe I could have told you that before--”</p><p>“--Yes, I know, I know, but this thing can also read multiple parameters at once-- just give it a minute to calculate...”</p><p> </p><p>--I use their momentary distraction as an opportunity to put my pants on and walk over to where Claire is crouching. I peer down at her and her new device. “Where are you getting all these things anyways?”</p><p>“Hmmm?” replies Clare, not looking at me. “I built this one.”</p><p>“You built it?”</p><p>“Yea. My specialty is magical equipment. They almost had me be a puppeteer, except I’m better at processing than inanimate animation.”</p><p>“...Right, sure.” Like that means anything to me.</p><p>A little glowing pop-up appears above her device. “Hmm...” she says thoughtfully, and twiddles with it some more.</p><p>“What? You find something?”</p><p>“Just give me a moment!” Claire snaps back, annoyed.</p><p>She leans back over her... whatever the hell it is. I guess it’s not ready yet. I should--</p><p> </p><p>A) Ask Claire about what the device does.<br/>B) Go talk to Caster until it’s done.<br/>C) Go talk to Saber until it’s done.<br/>D) Reach over and press a button on it, see what it does.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0063"><h2>63. Chapter 63</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>D) What does this button do?</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>“...So what does this button do?” I ask, peering over Claire’s shoulder.</p><p>“..What?”</p><p>“This button here, the big red one.” I reach down and press it, and--</p><p> </p><p>*FZZZZZT*</p><p> </p><p>A shock pulses through my body.</p><p>“What? No! What did you do?” Claire yells, shocked. Caster bolts to her feet and rushes over to where I’ve fallen to the ground.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>*THUMP*</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>“What did you do to him!” I hear Caster yell.</p><p>“It’s feeding back again! I wasn’t going try that again after last time, but he--”</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>*THUMP*</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>--It hurts. It’s back. It’s tearing at my in</p><p>sides I don‘t understand w</p><p>hy is it happening aga</p><p>in I only pushe</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>*THUMP*</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>d the godd</p><p>amn button it sho</p><p>uldn’t just en</p><p>d li</p><p>ke t</p><p>hi</p><p>s</p><p>
  <strong>*THUMP*</strong>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <strong>DEAD END</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>-------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>“STUPID BASTARD”!</p><p> </p><p>*THUMP*</p><p> </p><p>--I am awoken by a sharp blow to the back of my head. I bolt upright, my hands raised in a protective gesture, and see Claire, fiery with rage, poised in front of me to strike again.</p><p>“What!? Stop, Claire, what--”</p><p>“WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING?”</p><p>She swings again, but I manage to block her.</p><p>“Hold up, wait a second, what did I--</p><p>--Then I notice that her normal clothes have been replaced for a familiar uniform.</p><p>“...Oh. I died again, didn’t I?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yup, you sure did.” --Caster enters the classroom from the front. “Settle down, class,” she says, motioning for Claire to sit down. She does, reluctantly, casting a hateful glance back towards me.</p><p>“Now then.” Caster relaxes, her tone becoming admonishing. “But really, Will. You managed to survive another servant fight, and even resisted the power of a Noble Phantasm, and yet you manage to die right afterward-- and by your own hand, too...” she shakes her head.</p><p>“Eheh... I guess I slipped up a little--”</p><p>“A LITTLE? YOU BLEW UP MY--”</p><p>“Settle down, now,” Caster admonishes Claire.</p><p> </p><p>“Sheesh. Is it always this noisy in here?” I hear an unfamiliar voice say from a bit beside me. I look over--</p><p>What? Sitting a few rows over is a now-familiar female figure, dressed in the same impossible uniform as Claire but managing to make it look twice as much like some shut-in nerd’s fantasy.</p><p>“Sa- Samantha? What’re you--”</p><p>“Don’t ask me. You think I’d choose to be here?”</p><p>I hear Andy whistle behind me. “Glad she is either way. Wish I had normal classes like this one!”</p><p>“Huh, you wish. Creeper.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>-----Why, God, why? If you do exist, and this is what comes after, then what kind of sick, twisted sense of humor do you have?</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>I raise my hand. “Caster? I know what I did wrong, can I go now? Please? Please?”</p><p>“Alright, alright. Just try to be smarter this time, alright? Remember, just because the readers may find out something interesting when you die, you won’t remember it!”</p><p>--The world begins its familiar fading and spinning back to blackness.</p><p> </p><p>“--Although I suppose if they’re making choices for you, and they’re metagaming, then it doesn’t matter either way... but that’s cheating!....”</p><p> </p><p>-------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>“What? You find something?”</p><p>“Just give me a moment!” Claire snaps back, annoyed.</p><p>She leans back over her... whatever the hell it is. I guess it’s not ready yet. I should--</p><p> </p><p>A) Ask Claire about what the device does.<br/>B) Go talk to Caster until it’s done.<br/>C) Go talk to Saber until it’s done.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0064"><h2>64. Chapter 64</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>C) Go talk to Saber.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Whatever. Best to leave those two alone right now. I grab a shirt and stumble over to slump down on a couch. Whatever healing Caster did to me has exhausted me, because my body still feels heavy despite all the sleep I just had.</p><p> </p><p>I look across the sitting area to where Saber is lounging lazily. He’s wearing normal clothes now, I notice-- blue jeans, t-shirt, and jacket, with his once flowing blonde hair now cut shorter. He sees me looking and smiles wryly.</p><p>“So the patient’s awake then. Tired of being operated on?”</p><p>I nod ruefully, and he laughs. “Ha! Women and Magi. One or the other is bad enough, put them both together and you just cannot live with them, eh?”</p><p>I can’t help but laugh too. Funny, I was scared shitless of this guy only a few days ago, but now I can’t see any of that intensity in him. He’s just... chilling.</p><p>Which makes me curious. “So why are you here, anyways?”</p><p>“Hm?” Saber looks over quizzically.</p><p>“I mean, why don’t you stay in spirit form? Doesn’t it conserve mana and all?”</p><p>“Ah, yes, it does. But it also hides me, and why would I want that?” He draws himself up. “I am Sig--”</p><p>He stops as if catching himself, and casts furtive glance towards Claire, still busy with her device.</p><p>“--Well, I am a warrior, and warriors never hide themselves in battle. And this, after all, is a war. So I stay where I can fight at all times.”</p><p> </p><p>He sees me looking at his “casual” appearance and grins. With his left hand he reaches up and tugs on his forehead, and in an instant I can see a helm half-drawn off his head, and the casually leaning young man becomes the armed-to-the-teeth 7 foot tall warrior.</p><p>Then he puts it back on and grins. “See? Ready whenever.”</p><p>--I grin back. “Sounds like you almost gave yourself away there.”</p><p>Saber sighs. “It is just not right, to be forbidden to tell your opponent the name of he who will defeat him, or to regale your comrades with tales of your exploits. For why else do we seek such glories? But I have been forbidden from revealing my identity in such a manner. Such a demanding woman...” He shakes his head. “Women and Magi. I wonder, sometimes, why I ever wanted to fall in either.”</p><p>I nod sympathetically, and Saber brightens. “But you have no such prohibition? Tell me of the fight with Rider. If I could not bring his downfall, I would like to hear of it at least.”</p><p> </p><p>...I don’t really know if I want to talk about it now, but before I can open my mouth I am interrupted by Claire’s shout. “Got it! Come over here, Will.”</p><p>I sigh and get to my feet. Saber nods ruefully. “What did I tell you, eh?”</p><p> </p><p>--I’m still a bit unsteady on my feet, and I suddenly realize I’m starving.</p><p> </p><p>A) Listen to Claire<br/>B) Grab some breakfast first.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0065"><h2>65. Chapter 65</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>B) Grab some breakfast first.</strong>
</p><p>“Coming, coming. Just give me a sec.”</p><p>I stalk over to the kitchenette and try a cabinet. --I’d noticed before that they were pre-stocked with some basic foods, but on closer inspection there’s actually quite a wide variety of non-perishable food in here, besides the cereal, bread, and fruit.</p><p> </p><p>--For a moment, I’m struck with the inexplicable desire to cook something lavish for everyone, but I shake it off quickly. Who do I think I am? I can barely cook myself an egg, let alone a breakfast. Besides, its already afternoon, a bit late for breakfast.</p><p> </p><p>So I grab myself a bagel and some fruit and head over to where Claire is sitting impatiently. “So what’ve we got?”</p><p> </p><p>“Hm.” Claire twiddles with her device before setting it down on the bed in front of her. Now that I can get a good look at it, it’s a bit more... normal looking than the last machine she used on me. It’s a small tablet-like object made of some kind of sheer dark metal or plastic, with a depression running over the front of it that looks like some kind of screen or something. Other than that, though, it doesn’t seem to have any sort of controls or anything-- and I can’t see where those wires she was using before plug in.</p><p>Caster comes over and settles down on the bed next to me. “So?”</p><p>“Alright...” Claire places a finger on the device in front of her, and suddenly it comes to life with a green light, unfolding like a fractal flower in front of me-- I realize that what looked like a sheer surface was actually made from hundreds of little interlocking strands and plates of metal and glass. It stops moving, having taken a rounded, lens-like shape, and from the top of it is projected a small image in the air before us-- a hazy, translucent image of a human body.</p><p> </p><p>--Wow. Its been awhile since I saw any real magic out of Claire, so this is extremely impressive. Miles above that clunky machine I blew up before.</p><p> </p><p>She twists her finger and a network of bright lines appear inside the body.</p><p>“These are your magic circuits, Will-- well, not yours, but the ones that are currently inside your body.”</p><p>I nod.</p><p>“Whatever happened last night”, she continues, “was similar to what happened the last time I tested you, but on an exponentially higher scale. Your whole system fed back on itself and began to resonate.</p><p>“I’m not sure how that foreign system is co-existing with your body like that normally, but it’s a very fragile balance. That resonance ‘connected’ you, somewhat, and since you lack circuits at all you have no way of letting off the energy, so it discharged directly into your nervous system and internal organs. Lucky for you it stabilized eventually.”</p><p>“No idea what caused it?” I ask.</p><p>“Not yet, not without knowing more about your... unique case,” she answers. “It could have been almost anything-- a last ditch attack from Rider, a magical relic from Samantha, the wind coming from the wrong direction...” she shakes her head. “Honestly, it’s a miracle you’re not dead already, with that thing in your system.”</p><p>--Thanks, that’s really comforting. I’m about to say something else, but Claire interrupts me.</p><p> </p><p>“Now, Will, I’ve got something else we need to discuss.”</p><p>“Alright, what?”</p><p>She takes a deep breath before she continues. “Will... what do you know about your father?”</p><p> </p><p>--Why does that old bastard keep popping up?</p><p> </p><p>“Not much. No more than you do. Less, probably.”</p><p>“I figured. You remember, the reason I was at your house before was to find that out. The Association archives has a substantial file on Daniel Cooper.”</p><p>--The reason you were breaking into my house, you mean. “And?”</p><p>“Oh, its all trash. Rumors, mostly-- a small time mundane who got in way over his head and may or may not have gotten his hands on something major. No mention of the Grail, but I’m sure anything about that would have gotten blocked by the Wizard Marshall before it got anywhere near the archives.</p><p>“But, well... if we need an explanation for why you are what you are, he’s the right place to look.”</p><p>“Yea... but I don’t know anything about him. Really.”</p><p> </p><p>Claire frowns. “Damn. Back to square one then.”</p><p>She withdraws her finger and the fractal machine returns to its original state.</p><p>---“Well, I’m done here then. You’re not dying anymore, and I can’t figure anything else out, so we should probably move on to our next order of business.”</p><p>Caster nods. “Yes. We will just have to be conscious of Will’s condition from now on.”</p><p>Stop talking about me like I have a disease or something! “Yeah, I’m feeling alright now. We don’t have time to waste here.”</p><p> </p><p>---“Planning for battle, eh?” I see Saber walking back over to us. “I hope you were not about to leave me out of such discussion?”</p><p>Claire sighs. “No, Saber. We were just getting started.”</p><p> </p><p>She turns back to the rest of us. “So? Now what?”</p><p> </p><p>---What should I bring up first?</p><p> </p><p>A) Tell everyone about my run-in with Archer and his Master.<br/>B) Tell them about Clemenson.<br/>C) Be silent and let someone else start. I’ll tell them about what I know in good time.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0066"><h2>66. Chapter 66</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>A) Tell everyone about my run-in with Archer and his Master.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>...Well, I suppose I this’ll have to come up eventually.</p><p>“One second.” I jump up onto the bed, much to Claire and Caster’s shock, and land with a cushioned thump next to the pile of what I assume are my clothes. I find my jacket on the bedpost and fish around in the pockets until I find the small square of paper.</p><p>There.</p><p>I climb back over to where the rest are sitting and toss the card onto the bed in front of them.</p><p> </p><p>“...What?” says Claire, uncertainly. “Is that...”</p><p> </p><p>---I explain my little meeting with Archer, Jack, and Anne in the Commercial District.</p><p> </p><p>When it comes to a close, Claire puts her face in her hands. “Honestly, Will, you’re going to get yourself killed like that...”</p><p>Saber just laughs. “He got the card, though. Where is this Archer’s lair, eh?”</p><p>“It’s just outside of town, a bit up the mountain side south of here,” I reply. “There was an old factory complex out there that went out of business a few years ago, but apparently it was just recently purchased by some new corporation-- this ‘Yassa Industries.’ It was all over the local news a few months ago--”</p><p>“--Which means they’ve had plenty of time to get in position,” finishes Saber. “Either Archer was summoned long before the war began, or that little boy Jack is more cunning than we’ve given him credit for.” He frowns, thinking.</p><p>“Either way, that means it’ll be extremely hard to attack them while they’re there,” says Caster. “He obviously has a large number of soldiers under his command. The place will definitely be heavily guarded. I could probably make it in undetected alone, but Archer’s senses alone would prevent many more from making it in or out without causing a disturbance.”</p><p>“So we have either wait for him to leave, or draw him out,” says Saber, nodding.</p><p>“I dunno,” I say, “I doubt he ever even leaves alone. I would bet that I was being watched by plenty of his men while we were talking there.”</p><p>“Likely,” says Claire, nodding.</p><p>We get quiet. Everyone is thinking, but we’re not coming up with much.</p><p> </p><p>Saber finally strikes the bed with his fist, causing the rest of us to jump (involuntarily, mostly-- I think the mattress sprung a spring or two from that blow). “Gods damn it. We can’t just rush in, then. We need more information.”</p><p>“I agree,” replies Caster with a nod. “Perhaps today would be best used in reconnaissance-- in any case, my master is obviously not ready for any sort of combat today.”</p><p>Claire nods. “Alright. In that case, Saber and I will go take a look at a few thing today, and patrol tonight. If you can, you can check into somethings today, but,” and she looks at me, “Caster is right. You probably shouldn’t be fighting at least till tomorrow.”</p><p> </p><p>---Sheesh, I feel just fine. Just a little light headed is all. Although I suppose getting one’s organs repaired might have some recovery time.</p><p> </p><p>“...Alright. I’ll take it easy today,” I saw with a sigh.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s settled then.” Claire gets to her feet. “Saber, lets go. We’ll be back sometime tonight. We’ll go check up on Archer’s hideout, first of all...”</p><p>They exit the room together.</p><p> </p><p>---------------------</p><p> </p><p>As the door closes Caster slumps onto the bed beside me.</p><p>“Gods,” she says, exasperated. “I thought that girl would never leave.”</p><p>I grin. “Problem?”</p><p>“She just barged in here last night. I certainly could-- and did-- handle your condition by myself. But she had to use her damned little device...”</p><p>She sits up and looks at me. “In any case, you need to rest.”</p><p>“I know, I know.” I flop back on the bed. “I’ll just lie around here for awhile I guess.”</p><p>“As well you should. After what you have come back from, you have no room for complaint.”</p><p>I hear her stand up from the bed. “If it is alright with you, I would like to run out for a few minutes.”</p><p>“Hmm?”</p><p>“I will be back very soon. Do not worry, if anything was to try and breach this rooms defenses I would be back immediately.”</p><p>“Alright, go do whatever I guess....”</p><p>“Thank you. I will return soon.”</p><p>I hear the door open and close.</p><p> </p><p>---So, I’m here alone, recovering, with not much to do. What now?</p><p> </p><p>A) Nap. Gotta get my strength back up.<br/>B) Watch some TV. Got nothing better to do.<br/>C) Go for a walk around the hotel. Maybe I can work some of the tiredness out of me.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0067"><h2>67. Chapter 67</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>B) Watch some TV.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>I decide to do what every American does when he can’t think of anything else: I flop down on the couch and turn on the TV.</p><p>I flip for a few minutes, but there’s not a lot on at this time of afternoon--</p><p> </p><p>“Buy today, and you’ll recieve a--”</p><p> </p><p>*click*</p><p> </p><p>“Next, you put the chicken into your a--”</p><p> </p><p>*click*</p><p> </p><p>“Actress Samantha Reynolds, who--”</p><p> </p><p>*click*</p><p> </p><p>“Well, ya see, the turrrists--”</p><p> </p><p>--Wait, what was that?</p><p> </p><p>*click*</p><p> </p><p>“--have been unable to contact her for the past twenty four hours. Despite her decision to leave her life as an actress behind while she continued her education, she had maintained relatively frequent contact with her agent up until yesterday, in order to ensure the proper handling of her various properties. However, he claims that she has not been in contact with since two days ago.”</p><p>--The screen cuts to the edge of the park</p><p>“Suspicions of her disappearance were confirmed when a purse containing her phone and various personal effects were found in a river near the edge of Eastern Park earlier this morning. As of now, the police have no leads as to her current whereabouts.”</p><p>“Thanks, John. More on that story as soon as we have more information. And now, sports!”</p><p> </p><p>*click*</p><p> </p><p>I turn off the TV and sink back into the couch.</p><p> </p><p>Samantha... vanished? Right after we fought her? I think back to the fight. I can’t remember anything that happened between Rider’s death and my waking up here... so what happened? Was there another master around? Did she just fall prey to a kidnapper or something? Could Caster have--</p><p>No. I can’t think like that. Caster said she let her go, and she wouldn’t have--</p><p>I remember the cold look in Caster’s eyes as Rider’s body was suspended in mid-air. Her smile.</p><p> </p><p>...Could she have done something?</p><p> </p><p>--I shake my head, trying to clear it. I need to think clearly about this.</p><p>Really, I don’t know a whole lot about Caster, do I? Who was she? Why does she want the grail so badly?--And those dreams I’ve been having. They have to have something to do with her. The images are so real... but I can’t exactly place them. It seems like a story I know, but a few things just aren’t right... damn, mythology and folklore was always my worst study.</p><p>--But at the same time, I’m hesitant to explore any further. I guess... I don’t want to find out she’s someone bad.</p><p>...Because? Damn. I’m just a sucker for a pretty face, aren’t I? Besides, she’s saved my life enough times so far I can’t really say anything against her personally, right?</p><p> </p><p>Gah, I don’t know. I gotta do something else for a bit than think about this.</p><p> </p><p>A) I’ll go to sleep for a bit. Maybe I’ll get lucky and not dream.<br/>B) I’ll go walk around, get some of my restlessness out.<br/>C) I’ll get on my laptop, check up on some things on the internet.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0068"><h2>68. Chapter 68</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>A) Go to sleep for a bit</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>...Alright, I give up. It feels weird to be slacking off like this, considering how much is going on right now, but I’m too tired to care. I’ll just take everyone’s advice and get some rest.</p><p>I stretch out sideways on the couch and lay back on my hands. I’ll just sleep for a little while, Caster’ll wake me up when she gets back...</p><p> </p><p>----------------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>She stands atop the crest of a nearby building. The late afternoon sun is beginning to set, casting an orange glow on the skyline before her, her cloaked form barely outlined against the darkening sky. Surveying the city below, she broods. Thinking. Considering.</p><p>Remembering.</p><p> </p><p>—Below her, through a window, she can see her master sleep, and, for a moment, she feels a pang of regret. –But some things must be done.</p><p>“...Sorry, Will,” she mumbles softly to herself, and without a sound she disappears, slipping unseen into the city in search of her target...</p><p> </p><p>--------------------------------------------<br/><em></em></p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>She was a sorceress, she was a noblewoman, she was a lady, she was beautiful; she was the talk of every circle the court.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And she loved it. She was like a seedling freed from the earth– placed in the sunny court of the Capital she began to bloom into something no-one would have expected from the quiet, studious sorceress of the north. She spread rumors and was their source, she was a go-between and conspirator. If there was something worth talking about in the king’s capitol, her influence was somehow involved.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>––Such impropriety could not stand, of course. and so machinations were made against her, lead by her sister’s Queen herself.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>But what did she care? She was on top of the world. No longer was she kept up in her cold cell–– instead, she danced. She reveled. She played, in the warmth of friends and lovers and compatriots. Her horizons had expanded, and she intended to explore every limit of them all.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>––And, one night, it was too far.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>It was like waking up from a dream. The court, once filled with light and music, was silent as the Queen spoke.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>––Adulterer, was all she said, pointing her finger across the hall to where the sorceress stood.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Was the accusation true? It mattered not, for it was uttered by the Queen herself, and none dared to stand against her. She stood alone, in the center of the silent hall, surrounded by faces which had a moment ago been smiling at her, watching her, admiring her––</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>She cast her eye pleadingly to the far side of the table, towards her sister–– and was met with silence. The King’s eyes were cold.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And the terrible realization began to dawn on her. There was no-one. Not even her supposed husband stood by her. They loved her as the capricious, mysterious woman–– but now, she was marked for those very things.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She raged inside. How dare they single her out. How dare they not stand by her. How dare they abandon her again, how dare they call her ally or friend or lover and then turn away as soon as she became an inconvenience––</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She raised her head defiantly, her head filled with visions of arcane destruction, only to see the face of her teacher gazing back from next to the King’s seat. Even he opposed her. And she could not face that.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>So she was cast out. Stripped of her nobility. Made out to be a laughingstock, a disgrace, a common whore. He pride would not allow her to stay in such a place. She fled into the wilds.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>There, she wandered, with nothing but her sorcery and her resentment for comfort. Where should she go? The greatest King in the land had cast her out, she had been branded as a wretch, a whore, a heretic; who else would take her in?</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>–––So she sought the Faerie in their courts of Arcadia.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Now the Fay are a fickle sort, and are, as a rule, unkind to humans. Perhaps it was a whim. Perhaps their strange hearts were somehow touched by her plight. Or, perhaps they saw the potential for future entertainment. But they welcomed in this tired girl, this great sorceress, to their shining, timeless halls.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>There she lived, and learned, for years–– she herself could not count the time, for time in Arcadia is as fickle and unpredictable as they, and as she learned their magic she became closer and closer to becoming one of them herself, beautiful and cold and capricious and fickle. Soon, her power became known even amongst them, and she became a courtesan in the highest courts, gaining once again a noble title.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>–––She was theirs now; but it was not long before she began to turn her attention back to the world from whence she came...<br/></em>
</p><p> </p><p>---------------------------------<br/>Day 7 11/9<br/>---------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>–––“That’s a ridiculous idea! Are you crazy?”</p><p> </p><p>I stir.</p><p>I’m laying on the couch.</p><p> </p><p>–––”It is the only way we have! Can you not see that? We cannot wait forever!”</p><p> </p><p>I groan and try to stretch. Not the most comfortable position to have been napping.</p><p>Turning my head, I can see Caster and Claire seated opposite each other on the other couches near where I lay. Saber leans on a nearby wall. He sees my look and shrugs unconcernedly.</p><p>“...Hey, I’m always for crazy ideas. What’s this one?” I say with a yawn.</p><p> </p><p>“Ah, you have awoken,” Caster says, glancing over at me. “My apologies. We were trying to let you sleep.”</p><p>“...What time is it?” I ask</p><p>“Around eight” replies Claire.</p><p>“...What day is it?”</p><p>“Thursday.”</p><p> </p><p>Christ. I just slept how long?</p><p> </p><p>“Well, that’s long enough. What’s going on?”</p><p>“We were just debating our next course of action,” says Caster, giving Claire a meaningful glare.</p><p>“Your <em>Servant</em>”—Christ I can HEAR the italics on that one— “wants... you know what, never mind. Here. Look at this.”</p><p>Claire picks something off the coffee table and hands it to me. “This was outside your door this morning.”</p><p>It’s a piece of incredibly fancy stationary— gold leaf and everything— upon which is printed:</p><p> </p><p>Mr. and Mrs. William Cooper,</p><p>You are Cordially invited to the Empire Ballroom tonight for a Donator’s Dinner, hosted by Julius Clemenson. We request your presence and patronage.</p><p> </p><p>“...Caster. When we checked in, did––”</p><p>“No. The hotel staff should not know your name.”</p><p>“Which means Clemenson knows who you are, and where we are right now,” says Claire, impatiently. “Which is why––”</p><p>“Which is why we need to strike now!” retorts Caster. “We know he’s here, and we know where he will be tomorrow night––”</p><p>“We can’t involve that many people! And besides, Archer is a bigger threat right now!”</p><p>Claire turns to me. “Saber and I investigated Archer’s compound last night. The one on your card. —It’s a big operation, and their defenses are very comprehensive. We need to gather more information, figure out if we can get him and his master when they’re outside.”</p><p>“I realize,” says Caster, “that Archer is a threat. However, we have an even closer one which we should deal with first. Clemenson will be a simple matter, and then we can move on to bigger opponents.”</p><p> </p><p>––I look over at Saber. He shrugs.</p><p> </p><p>...Something tells me this isn’t going anywhere fast. I should weigh in as well––</p><p> </p><p><strong>Special Choice:</strong><br/>Since this and the next few decisions are relatively important as to what will happen next, and since I think I haven't been giving you all as much choice as I should, this and possibly the next few choices will be write-ins.</p><p>–––What do you all want to do next?</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0069"><h2>69. Chapter 69</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>–––“Alright, alright. Mind if I throw in an idea?”</p><p> </p><p>The two across from me cease their bickering for a moment and look over at me.</p><p> </p><p>“...Claire, I’m sorry,” I say carefully, “but Caster is right. I know it’s our problem more than it’s yours, but Clemenson is a bigger immediate threat to Caster and I. Hell, he obviously knows who I am. And he probably knows you two are here right now as well.”</p><p>–––I look down at the fancy invitation again. “We have to get rid of that threat now. Or at least figure out what that threat is.”</p><p> </p><p>“So what, then?” says Claire. “You’re just going to go to his little party like good little guests and see what happens?”</p><p>“Of course not. We have plenty of time to prepare for whatever. We’ll just have to turn the tables on the old man.”</p><p> </p><p>“—I understand that this is not your problem,” says Caster slyly. “But we have to deal with this immediate threat to us—and as your allies we just thought—”</p><p> </p><p>“We may be allies,” Claire retorts, “but unlike you, my mission is to put an end to this stupid war without anyone learning of its existence. If you’re even thinking about fighting in a crowded ballroom—”</p><p>“—Don’t worry. We’re not going to risk collateral damage,” I say, trying to placate her. “You understand, right? We’re not necessarily going to fight; we just have to at least figure out what Clemenson wants.”</p><p>Claire glares at me. “Alright, fine,” she says after a moment, sounding annoyed. “We’ll go along with your little scheme. But whatever happens, we have to go after Archer next— he’s already moving too openly, and as the Association’s only representative in the area I have to eliminate him before he can do any more damage.”</p><p>“I have no idea what that means,” I reply, “but thanks.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>----------------------------------------</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“—Alright. So Caster and I will go, as guests. Saber, you can disguise yourself as a waiter or something, right?”</p><p>Saber just grins, and reaches up to his forehead. His clothes flash instantly to an impeccable tuxedo for a moment, before returning to his usual.</p><p>“...I’ll take that as a yes. Then can you be hanging around as backup?”</p><p>He nods. Claire interjects: “Then I’ll monitor the place from outside. Clemenson may have little in the way of magic, beside Berserker, but he has the resources to just about anything else. Caster, can you give me a connection through your barrier? If so, I can link up to the hotel’s security systems, plus any wards we want to put up around the ballroom.”</p><p>Caster nods. “I suppose so.”</p><p>I take a deep breath. “For now, we shouldn’t go in with the intent to kill. Not until we know what Clemenson’s intentions are.”</p><p>Caster shoots me a familiar look, but I interrupt before she can speak: “—That being said, we’re going to have to take care of the old man eventually. So we need something subtle to use against him.”</p><p>I glance at Caster. That seemed to do the trick, as she’s relaxed again.</p><p>“Clemenson shouldn’t be able to detect magical wards and enchantments, right? We need a trump card— something we can use to take him out if we’re forced to.”</p><p> </p><p>–––“What about your Noble Phantasm, hm?” Claire says, looking slyly at Caster.</p><p>Caster’s cocks her head. “Hmm? Trying to discern my identity, are we?”</p><p>“...She does have a point,” I say. “Could your Noble Phantasm be of any use here?”</p><p> </p><p>–––She hesitates for a moment.</p><p> </p><p>“...It could be,” she says, finally, “but it would be enormously taxing for me. And I am unsure if I could exclude the rest of the guests from its effects... it is not exactly a pin-point attack.”</p><p>“Ooooh, so its an anti-army, at least,” says Claire. Caster is silent. — I’m not even going to try to speculate as to what it might be right now.</p><p> </p><p>“...Still, you said before that it requires you to set up an area beforehand?”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“Could you set it up around the ballroom, just in case? —Or would it not be useful for that?”</p><p>“...I will do so,” Caster replies. “As a means of escape, at least. Please do not ask me for more.”</p><p>I nod. “Of course. We don’t want any collateral damage.”</p><p>“If I was to inspect the ballroom itself, I could most likely find a better solution.”</p><p>“Alright. We should all probably scope the place out beforehand anyways, and you and Claire need to lay whatever wards you have to, right?”</p><p>They both nod.</p><p>“Then we probably shouldn’t all go at once—”</p><p> </p><p>A) Tell Caster to go first.<br/>B) Go with Caster first.<br/>C) Tell Claire and Saber to go first<br/>D) Tell Saber to go first.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0070"><h2>70. Chapter 70</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>D (and E)) Tell Saber to go first</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>“Saber, can you go down there first? Scout around, see if there’s anything obvious?”</p><p>Saber nods. “Sounds like a plan.”</p><p>I start to stand. “Hell, I’ll go too. I’ve been sleeping too long, I need to get up and move—”</p><p> </p><p>–––”No you’re not.”<br/>––––”You will not!”</p><p> </p><p>—I’m stopped by a simultaneous outburst from Claire and Caster.</p><p>“Will, be serious. You cannot be going out in these circumstances, with no way to protect yourself.”</p><p>“Not to mention that you’re recovering from multiple organ failure, remember?”</p><p>Oh yeah, that. I look over at Saber, who shrugs. “Sorry lad,” he says, grinning. “Can’t help you here.”</p><p> </p><p>–––I sit back down with a sigh. “Fine. Go ahead Saber. See what you can find out.”</p><p>“Very well. I shall return soon,” says Saber with a mock-bow, and he exits the room.</p><p> </p><p>“Now then,” says Claire, turning back to Caster, “we should probably discuss...”</p><p>...and a bunch of magic talk I don’t understand. Rather than sit here and look like an idiot, I decide to go take a shower. I haven’t in what, two days now?</p><p> </p><p>---------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>By the time I’m done, the two are no longer talking. Claire is still over on the couch, with her little black device out on her lap, deep in thought. Caster is sitting cross-legged on the bed with her back to me, and appears to be fiddling with something.</p><p> </p><p>A) Go see what Claire is doing<br/>B) Go see what Caster is doing.<br/>C) They both look busy, I’ll just watch TV or something.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0071"><h2>71. Chapter 71</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>B) Go see what Caster is doing.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>I guess I’ll see what Caster’s busy with, get in on the magical side of the plan as much as I can. I walk over where she’s seated on the bed— this time I’m careful not to surprise her.</p><p>“Hey,” I say as reach her, “working on someth—”</p><p>Wait a second.</p><p>In Caster’s lap is sitting a square of silver metal, folded in the middle at a right angle. I stop.</p><p> </p><p>“...Caster,” I ask, “What are you doing with my laptop?”</p><p> </p><p>–––Very carefully, Caster sets the laptop down in front of her and turns to me.</p><p> </p><p>“Well...” she says, looking at me sheepishly, “We finished our preparations for the time being, and you were still showering, and you said that you had more music in your computer, but I cannot figure out how to get it out...”</p><p> </p><p>I sigh, sitting down on the bed next to her and picking up the laptop. “Do you even know what a computer is?”</p><p>“Of course. It’s a machine that manipulates and stores data according to a set of instructions.”</p><p>“...I guess the grail didn’t expect you to need to use one.” I boot it up. Caster watches, interested.</p><p> </p><p>“I see... so you manipulate the picture with that pad?”</p><p>“Yea. I can store audio as data in this thing, and play it back using a program.” I click on the media player icon in my dock.</p><p>“You... store sound as data? So like a CD, but with more songs?”</p><p>“Kinda. Now hold on a second.” I lean over, off the side of the bed, and rustle around in my bag for a moment before pulling out what I was looking for.</p><p>Caster looks at them quizzically. “What are those?”</p><p>“Headphones.” I plug them into the side of the computer and open up a media player.</p><p>“Those don’t look like—”</p><p>“They’re earbuds. You put them in your ears.” I hand them to her.</p><p>“—Like this?” She does, cautiously, but relaxes when she hears sound coming through them. “Ah, I see!”</p><p>I scroll through my songs. “What do you want to listen to?”</p><p>“You choose,” she says, trying not to look expectant. “Something that I haven’t heard yet.”</p><p>“Alright.” I click on a song. Caster closes her eyes, listening intently.</p><p> </p><p>–––Damn this woman. How am I supposed to keep my head straight, with her jumping from “murderous” to “adorable” all the time like this?</p><p> </p><p>------------------------------------</p><p>After a while, a knock comes at the door. Caster takes the the headphones out of her ears with a sigh and waves her hand irritatedly towards it. It swings open to reveal Saber, dressed in a server’s uniform. I shut my computer and get off the bed. Caster follows reluctantly.</p><p> </p><p>“So, what did you find out?” I ask, walking over to the couches. I see Claire shut down her device and look up as well.</p><p>“A fair amount,” he answers, his clothing flashing back to normal. “I discovered how to get into the kitchen, and listened in on a meeting of the staff there. I should be able to impersonate a server at the party with very little effort.”</p><p>“Excellent. Is it safe for these two to set up now?”</p><p>“It should be. The area is full of people, but with a little bit of disguise you should be able to blend in easily— in fact, the commotion will better hide your efforts.”</p><p> </p><p>“Easy enough.” Caster says. She mumbles something and her clothes haze and reform in what I’m disappointed to say is just another simple server’s uniform.</p><p>“Good for you,” says Claire, “but it’s not so easy for me to—”</p><p> </p><p>Caster waves a arm and a similar haze surrounds Claire, reforming into what I realize is a cleaning lady’s smock. Clare looks down at herself irritatedly.</p><p>“It fits you,” Caster says with a smirk. Claire just glares.</p><p> </p><p>“Alright. You two go down and do what you have to do. I’ll—”</p><p> </p><p>A) Go with you and scope out the area for myself.<br/>B) Stay here.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0072"><h2>72. Chapter 72</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>B) Stay here</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>“—stay here, I guess.”</p><p>Caster nods, satisfied. “Then we will be off. We shall return soon.” She and Claire exit the room.</p><p> </p><p>I slump down on a couch. Saber is lounging on the one across from me.</p><p>“So,” I say, “anything I should know about the ballroom and such?”</p><p>“Not really,” Saber replies, sounding bored. “It’s a large open hall, with round tables bring set up all over and a stage at the end. You enter to the left of the stage, and there is a door to the kitchens on the right.”</p><p>“I see...”</p><p>“Ah, yes.” Saber perks up. “There was one thing. The tables are all reserved. I saw your name on a table on the right side, near the front. It seemed like an important area.”</p><p>“Huh. Not the best place to be.”</p><p>“Not at all. The placement had to be intentional. You will be right under the eyes of the head table and the stage.”</p><p>“So we’ll have to be subtle then...”</p><p>“Indeed.” Saber settles back on the couch and closes his eyes. “Save your strength, Will. You are likely to need it tonight.”</p><p>I lay back myself. Guess I should do something to kill the time.</p><p> </p><p>A) Watch TV; I don’t have anything better to do.<br/>B) Get on my Laptop; I guess I still have homework.<br/>C) Take a nap; I’m still kind of tired.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0073"><h2>73. Chapter 73</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>B) Do some homework</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>...Fuck. Didn’t I have a paper due this week? I somehow doubt I’ll be making it into class to turn it in anytime soon, but I suppose it couldn’t hurt to do a little research on it while I wait. Too bad it wasn’t in Campbell’s class, I think, chuckling darkly to myself.</p><p> </p><p>–––Damn. I’m getting too used to this shit.</p><p> </p><p>I walk over and grab my laptop and charger from the bed and sit down. Luckily a swanky hotel like this has internet included. I browse a bit, check up my email (my inbox is filled with school messages I’ve been ignoring for the past week) and call up my assignment. Oh boy, ancient Chinese emperors, my favorite.</p><p> </p><p>-----------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>A few hours later and I’m still reading over the material. Damn, I didn’t realize I was this behind. I’ve made it up to the Yuan dynasty.</p><p> </p><p>Despite winning over the newly-conquered Chinese, Kublai’s move of the Capitol and his adoption of Chinese laws and customs in his own court alienated many traditionalists in the empire, who began to flock to the banner of the Ogedeids, angry at his abandonment of their traditions and the Yassa code...</p><p> </p><p>Good ol’ Kublai Khan. I feel sorry for the guy; all he wanted to do was hang out in that pleasure dome of his, and all the Mongols back home kept giving him crap for turning Chinese...</p><p> </p><p>...Wait a second. Drop everything. What was that?</p><p> </p><p>––––Yassa code</p><p> </p><p>I dig around in my pockets and fish out a now-worn business card.</p><p> </p><p>––––Yassa Industries</p><p> </p><p>I run a search for “Yassa.” A few news articles pop up about the opening of the new facility outside of town. But below that is a wikipedia link. It reads:</p><p> </p><p>Yassa (alternatively: Yasa, Yasaq, Jazag, Zasag, Mongolian: Их засаг хууль) was a secret written code of law created by Genghis Khan.</p><p> </p><p>...</p><p> </p><p>.....FUCK.</p><p> </p><p>I keep looking, hoping I’m wrong. But I can’t shake it off.</p><p>––He fits the part perfectly, too perfectly. All those men, commanding them like it was nothing. His incredible charisma. Even the name, I can trace back to a river which ran through his birthplace.</p><p> </p><p>Genghis Khan.</p><p> </p><p>–––Oh Christ. What have we gotten ourselves into?</p><p> </p><p>-------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>“We’re back!”</p><p>The door swings open as Caster and Claire re-enter the room.</p><p>Saber opens an eye. “How’d it go?”</p><p>“Fine,” says Claire, sounding tired. “It took a little effort to get to some of the places we needed to, but I should be able to monitor the whole ballroom and surrounding areas with only a few blind spots.”</p><p>“And I’ve bounded the whole area,” says Caster. “The ballroom is now my domain—”</p><p>“—Which I still say is risky, since anyone with magical talent will be able to detect it.”</p><p>“An ability which no-one we are concerned with has,” replies Caster dismissively. “And if other masters get involved, it will give us an advantage.”</p><p> </p><p>–––They both sit down on the couches, Claire near the sprawled-out Saber and Caster next to me.</p><p> </p><p>“What have you been up to?” Caster asks me, peering over at my laptop screen.</p><p>“...Homework, sort of,” I reply.</p><p>“You’re worried about school at a time like this?” says Claire, looking puzzled.</p><p>“I’m more worried about other things, now.”</p><p> </p><p>––––I relate my suspicions about Archer.</p><p> </p><p>“I see...” says Claire, when I finish. “Looks like your education is worth something to us after all. You’re probably right.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yassa Industries...” says Caster thoughtfully. “Subtle, but discernible. Why would he put his identity out there like that?”</p><p> </p><p>“––Oh, thats right!” Saber sits up suddenly. “I forgot to mention—on the seating list that the servers were given, there is a whole table reserved for people with a ‘Yassa Industries.’ Listed as ‘Corporate Donors’, whatever that means.”</p><p> </p><p>...</p><p> </p><p>”WHAT?!”</p><p> </p><p>The three of us round on him.</p><p> </p><p>”Why didn’t you tell us this earlier!” Claire yells.</p><p> </p><p>Saber shrugs. “I did not know it was important until now.”</p><p> </p><p>-------------------------</p><p> </p><p>“...Well, I guess we need to revise our plans a bit, then,” I say, after the awkward silence that follows.</p><p> </p><p>“Obviously,” says Caster, glancing irritatedly at Saber, “if we must possibly contend with dual threats.”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, luckily, we’re going to have two servants present,” answers Claire. “We may want to divide our attention a bit.”</p><p> </p><p>–––I’m inclined to agree, but we don’t want to lose track of our original goal—or start an unnecessary fight.</p><p> </p><p>What should we do?</p><p> </p><p>A) Stick with the original plan, and just have Claire monitor the Yassa Industries delegation.<br/>B) Have Saber stay with the Yassa Industries delegation and have Caster and I focus on Clemenson.<br/>C) Have Saber stay with Clemenson and have Caster and I focus on the Yassa Industries delegation.<br/>D) Focus on the Yassa Industries delegation and just have Claire monitor Clemenson.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0074"><h2>74. Chapter 74</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>B) Have Saber stay with the Yassa Industries delegation and have Caster and I focus on Clemenson.</strong>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>I take a deep breath. “Alright then,” I say, “here’s what we’re going to do...”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>-------------------------------</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The ballroom is <em>spectacular.</em></p>
<p>Its a massive room, furnished in the same opulent style as the rest of the hotel, its expanse lit by chandeliers of crystal and gold. Most of the room is taken up by circular tables set with expensive-looking settings at each place. At the head of the room is a larger square table which I presume is the head table, and behind it a stage with a podium set up, adorned with microphones; behind it are banners for various charities. Between the two is an open expanse, with a small hotel band set up to one side. playing some slow dinner music.</p>
<p>And the guests— it's a ridiculous display of wealth. Every wealthy person in this city, and plenty from out of town as well, has to be here tonight. I don’t think anyone here is wearing anything that costs less than my college education...</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Caster and I are led to a table by a waiter and take our seats. With a little illusion I managed to look presentable in a fancy-looking black tuxedo; Caster of course looks natural in that sheer black evening dress she... conjured before.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>––<em>”We’re in position,</em>” I think to Claire, sitting back in our room.</p>
<p><em>”I can tell</em>.” I hear her voice in my head. Before we left, she put some kind of spell on Caster and I so that we can communicate the way Caster and I can. Although it doesn’t seem to work quite as well.</p>
<p>
  “Nervous?” asks Caster, smiling across the table from me.
</p>
<p>
  “Heh, you can tell?” I reply, cracking a small smile. “I’m a bit out of my league here.”
</p>
<p>
  “Nonsense. You blend in fine.”
</p>
<p>
  ––Don’t look so amused when you say that, damn it.
</p>
<p>
Instead of answering, I take a look around the ballroom. Only about half of the guests are seated; the rest are milling around in the open area and conversing with drinks in hand. A few are dancing lazily to the slow swing of the hotel band—from listening, I can tell they’re pretty good for a house group. That lead saxophonist has a great command of—
</p>
<p>
  —I snap myself out of it and keep scanning the room. On the other side of the seating area, a larger square table is set up, at which is seated a contingent of what appear to be businesspeople in nice suits sitting very quietly and looking very out of place at a party like this: I’m guessing that’s the Yassa Industries table. I spot Saber in waiter-guise carrying some drinks to the table. I can’t find Archer or Clemenson in the crowd anywhere yet though.
</p>
<p>
 <em>Sense anything?</em> I ask Caster mentally.
</p>
<p>
 <em>...Yes,</em> she replies, hesitantly. <em>I recognize Saber’s essence, then Berserker, I think... another, probably Archer... or is there another? No, that cannot be right—</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“We’ve got another issue here,”</em> says Claire’s voice.<em> I’m picking up at least five spiritual bodies within the ballroom.”</em>
</p>
<p>

    <em>“...And there should be a max of four, if Archer himself shows up?”</em>
</p>
<p>
    <em>“Right... It’s weird, I should be able to get a clear reading given the power a Servant’s body gives off, but this is weird... can you get a better look around? I need to confirm if Archer’s here, at least. You should be safe as long as you don’t do anything stupid, right?”</em>
</p>
<p>
––Easy for you to say, sitting up there away from the action. I look over at Caster, who nods. “Shall we go?”
</p>
<p>
A) Walk over and mingle in the crowd and see what we can find out.<br/>
B) Go join the dancers by the band and see if we can overhear anything.<br/>
C) Stay where we are and observe from here.
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0075"><h2>75. Chapter 75</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>B) Go join the dancers.</strong>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Alright. Let’s head over by the band, then, and see what we can overhear.”</p>
<p>Caster nods. We both stand and head over to the crowd.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>-----------------------------------</p>
<p> </p>
<p>We reach the area by the stage. Groups of well-dressed old couples, as well as the occasional young starlet, are hobnobbing around the edges, while a few couples have been brave enough to move out on the floor in front of the band and are moving sedately to their slow, easy swing.</p>
<p>Caster holds out a hand to me. “Shall we?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>–––And now, the moment of truth.</p>
<p>I scratch my head. “Sure, but...”</p>
<p>“What? Is something wrong?”</p>
<p>“No, its just... well, you see ...I can’t dance.” I look at my shoes. “Like, at all. I’m whiter than a albino in snowstorm when it comes to this sort of thing.”</p>
<p>Caster looks at me for a moment, puzzled, before breaking into an odd smile. “Then I’ll just have to be good enough for the both of us,” she says, and before I can react she’s grabbed my arm and is pulling me out onto the open floor.</p>
<p>“What are you—”</p>
<p>“Just keep quiet and follow me! Gods, you can be so slow sometimes.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>We reach the center of the open area as the band launches into a slow dance number. Caster stops and turns to me, and in one deft motion pulls me in close to her in an awkward approximation of the way the other couples on the floor are holding one another.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>–––I try to steady myself, partially from shock at how swiftly I ended up here and partly from an intense awareness of my proximity to Caster in a sheer evening dress.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Now, look at me, Will.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>–––You’re not helping things, damn it!</p>
<p> </p>
<p>But still, I listen, and as I look in her eyes I see them flash an emerald green, and suddenly I can feel my body loosen up and move naturally along with the music, as if invisible hands were guiding my movements along with hers.</p>
<p>She smiles mischievously as she sees my reaction. “I told you I’m good enough for the both of us, right?” she says airily. “Relax! Enjoy yourself!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>–––She’s having way too much fun with this.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The music begins to swell, and we sway along with it, weaving in and out of the other couples. Caster obviously has a gift for this sort of thing, as we seem to be attracting some attention from the groups at the edge of the crowd, as our movements are much more refined than the casual swaying of the other couples.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>–––This is a dangerous woman I’ve fallen in with. I shouldn’t be doing this. Not at a time like this. We’re supposed to be eavesdropping and there are people around us who want to kill us and we’re fighting in an absurd magical war and she’s a sorceress from centuries in the past but right now I can’t seem to tear my attention away from Caster. I look at her face. She smiles at me, and for a moment I wonder if she, too, is...</p>
<p> </p>
<p>I slap myself mentally. Bad Will! Keep focus!</p>
<p><em>Weren’t we trying to be subtle here?</em> I say silently. <em>I think we’re attracting some attention.</em></p>
<p><em>Oh, let me have my fun.</em> Her voice sounds pouty in my head.<em> We’re still keeping an eye out, right? Besides, don’t tell me you’re not—</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>Her voice cuts out, and with it I suddenly lose the rhythm in my limbs as we both stop near the edge of the crowd.</p>
<p>Caster? What’s up?</p>
<p>...I think I found something. Her voice has lost its airiness. “I’m going to go find someone, dear,” she says aloud. “Will you be alright by yourself for awhile?”</p>
<p>“I- I guess,” I say, not expecting this. Caster whirls and walks off through the crowd.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>–––I am SO confused right now.</p>
<p>I guess I should make myself useful. But as I turn to walk back into the crowd—</p>
<p> </p>
<p>––“Will! It’s Will Cooper, right?”</p>
<p>–––I hear a voice behind me. Startled, I turn, trying to seem like I wasn’t.</p>
<p>“Um, yea, I’m Will Cooper.”</p>
<p>“Aha! I knew I remembered you!”</p>
<p>Standing behind me is a smiling young man dressed in a snappy-looking black suit: skinny, blonde, tan, haven’t I seen him somewhere before—</p>
<p>He holds out his hand. “Ben. Ben Sabbah. I met you before, remember? When you were talking with Professor Campbell?”</p>
<p>“Oh, right! Yea.” I take his hand and shake it awkwardly. What is he— “What’re you doing here?” I ask, conversationally.</p>
<p>He laughs. “I could ask you the same question. This place seems pretty ritzy for our type, you know?” I nod, and he leans in closer to me. “Then again, you and your partner didn’t seem like you were going to let that stop you. An impressive show.”</p>
<p>I’m a bit taken aback, but I try not to let my confusion show on my face. “Heh, well, she’s does that. Not the type to blend in, you know?”</p>
<p>He laughs again— he seems like the type to be quick to do so. “I can see, I can see.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>–––Who is this guy, anyways? I was a bit nervous when I saw him, since he was there with Campbell, but I guess its more likely he was just a TA who happened to be there. Still, I best cover my bases.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yea, she’s actually the reason I’m here tonight,” I say.</p>
<p>“Oh?”</p>
<p>“Well, do you think they just invite random college students to swanky parties like this?”</p>
<p>He laughs. “No, I guess not. So she’s the one who knows people, eh?”</p>
<p>“Yea. She dragged me along. Not my type of thing, but hey, the food’s good, right?”</p>
<p>“No kidding. Funny, you’re story’s a lot like mine.”</p>
<p>“Pardon?”</p>
<p>“I got dragged here by a woman as well. Guess we both got lucky, huh?”</p>
<p>This time I can’t help but laugh. I can’t help but like this guy—</p>
<p> </p>
<p>–––<em>Will!</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>I hear Caster’s voice sharply in my head. I turn, and see her stalking through the crowd towards me, a very serious expression on her face.</p>
<p>“Uh oh. Looks like your date’s not happy,” Ben says, his half-smile never leaving his face. “Ah, and there’s my date. See you around!”</p>
<p>He walks off through the crowd in the other direction as Caster reaches me.</p>
<p><em>“What? What is it?</em>” I say.</p>
<p><em>"Be quiet and come with me! she replies quickly. We have to talk. Things are getting complicated...</em>"</p>
<p>I let Caster lead me back to our table.</p>
<p>
  <em>What’s going on! I ask irritatedly as we arrive. What did you run off for! Why did you just come get me!</em>
</p>
<p>She sits and turns to me. <em>As I said, things are getting complicated... Claire?</em></p>
<p><em>“She’s right,”</em> Claire’s voice said. <em>”We’ve confirmed Archer’s presence in the building, but he hasn’t entered the hall yet. Neither has Clemenson. Other than that, we can’t find their exact locations.”</em></p>
<p><em>Is that all?</em> I say, taking my seat. <em>Is that why you ran off, Caster?</em></p>
<p><em>No, that was because...</em> Caster appears hesitant for a moment, then says, <em>"I saw the girl. Samantha. She is also here."</em></p>
<p><em>"What?</em> I start in my chair. <em>"But the news said she disappeared!"</em></p>
<p><em>"Well she has apparently been found. And, more importantly,"</em> she says with great emphasis, <em>"she came in with that young man whom you were having such a stimulating conversation with when I found you."</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>–––Well that's a relief, now I know that Caster didn't— Wait, what?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>Ben? She came in with him? Is he—</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>I have not yet determined. His signature is odd, but it doesn’t seem to be that of a servant, unless it is one very good at concealing it’s presence... but why it would do something like that in this situation makes no sense...</em>
</p>
<p><em>“I agree,”</em> says Claire. <em>”We may need to reevaluate our plan—”</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>A) Stick with the plan. Better we don’t get involved in whatever this is.<br/>B) Investigate. This is too weird to just let go.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0076"><h2>76. Chapter 76</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>B) Investigate</strong>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>I shake my head. <em>"It’s too late for that. We’re going to have to improvise a bit."</em></p>
<p><em>"Oh?"</em> replies Caster. <em>"What exactly do you have in mind?"</em></p>
<p>
  <em>"I want to find out what Samantha and Ben are up to. It may be nothing, but its just to weird for them to show up like this."</em>
</p>
<p><em>"...I agree with you,"</em> Caster says, hesitantly, <em>"but that requires us to get close to them. And the girl recognized me almost instantly just now, and would not allow me to approach her—"</em></p>
<p>
  <em>"Then we’ll just have to try a more direct approach..."</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>---------------------------------------------</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Ben! There you are, man!”</p>
<p>“Will?”</p>
<p>I approach Ben and Samantha from the crowd before either of them can react—thanks to the help of a bit manipulation from Caster— and clap my hand on Ben’s shoulder. He turns, smiling pleasantly as usual. “Escape from the terror already?”</p>
<p>“Hah, well, that was what I came over here for, actually. Ben, this is Cassandra, the one who dragged me here.”</p>
<p>I motion behind me as Caster approaches. She curtseys lightly. “Nice to meet you. You are an acquaintance of Will's?”</p>
<p>Ben laughs. “Yes, we met before, through Professor Campbell.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He motions to his side, where Samantha stands. She’s wearing an expensive-looking designer dress, the kind that you’re never completely sure just how it manages to stay together the way it does, looking every inch the bored, haughty actress; nothing like the scared, ragged girl I saw only two nights ago.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Here’s the girl who dragged me here, then,” says Ben. “Samantha, this is Will and—”</p>
<p>“Oh, we’ve met before,” Caster says smoothly, glancing at Samantha.</p>
<p>But Samantha’s resolve doesn’t slip. “Yes, we have,” she says simply, a slight smile playing across her lips.</p>
<p>“Oh. Alright then,” says Ben, grinning sheepishly. “I guess you two probably know more about each-other than I do...”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>––”Ladies and Gentlemen,”</p>
<p>a voice emerges from the speakers at the front as a man in a hotel uniform takes the podium,</p>
<p>––”if you would be so kind to return to your seats so that we may begin tonight’s dinner.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well then, should we be off?” Ben puts his arm out to Samantha, who looks at it distastefully.</p>
<p>“I suppose so,” she says, brightening, and, ignoring his arm, walks off towards Caster and I back towards the tables.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>But as she brushes past Caster, I hear something, like a faint whisper, and Caster stiffens suddenly, in fear or anger—</p>
<p>—and she’s gone, lost in the crowd. Ben shrugs, as if to say “Women, huh?” and follows her. But after he passes us he stops and turns his head towards us.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>–––“Oh yea. Be careful tonight, alright? I want to run into you two again down the line.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>And he too is lost in the crowd...</p>
<p> </p>
<p>---------------------------------------------</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Caster is in a dour mood as we return to our table.</p>
<p><em>“Penny for your thoughts?”</em> I ask, as we both take our seats.</p>
<p><em>"...I do not understand your idiom,"</em> she says irritatedly.</p>
<p>
  <em>"Sorry. What’s bothering you so much?"</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>"Gods Will, do you not see what we just did? We accomplished nothing but revealing our presence to those two.They are obviously plotting something something, and Samantha—"</em>
</p>
<p>She shuts up. <em>"What is it?"</em></p>
<p>
  <em>"It’s nothing. Forget it. Concentrate on your surroundings; I cannot protect you completely..."</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>I take a look around me. The guests who were standing are now all slowly filling in their seats. A glance at the Yassa table shows me that Archer has at least not returned to his seat yet. I can’t find Samantha and Ben; they must be way on the other side of the room. Looking towards the front of the room, I spy Clemenson enter the room through a side door behind the stage and head over to the head of the main table.</p>
<p>As he reaches his seat, the door to the kitchen swing open and an army of servers emerge with trays full of food—guess we don’t get a menu. I see Saber head past us over towards the Yassa table as a server places plates of salad in front of Caster and I.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>–––Dinner has begun, and we still have no idea what’s going on.</p>
<p>––The entree arrives. Caster and I eat in silence, tensely awaiting any change in the atmosphere.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Finally, Clemenson gets up from his seat at the main table and heads to the stage, taking his place at the podium.</p>
<p>“Welcome, welcome everyone,” he says warmly. “Now, I never was much of a speaker, so I’m not gonna try to say too much tonight. But I at least have to express my thanks to you all, for helping to make this thing here work. Thanks to your help, thousands more families are still in their homes that wouldn’t have been.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>–––Polite clapping.</p>
<p>“No, don’t clap for me, you all should clap for yourselves. You all’ve done a fine job.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He makes a short half-bow and walks off the stage. Someone else takes his place and starts talking about more official stuff, but I tune him out. So far, this just seems like a normal fancy rich-person dinner— as much as that sort of thing is “normal,” I guess.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>––Out of the corner of my eye I see the main door on the side of the ballroom open. I turn just in time to see Archer stalk into the room. Ignoring the speaker, he moves purposefully over towards the Yassa table and sits down. Even from this distance, I can tell he’s pissed. I don’t know why though.</p>
<p><em>Saber</em>, I ask silently, <em>Keep an eye on Archer, see if you can find out what’s up with him.</em></p>
<p><em>Of course</em>, he replies.</p>
<p>On stage, the man in a suit finishes speaking and bows to polite applause. Another person, a woman, gets on stage and starts gushing about whatever charity program this dinner is about. I feel like I should care, but right now I’ve got other things to worry about. Clemenson is sitting back at his table, watching her speak with a smile; he seems perfectly relaxed.</p>
<p>I glance back around the room. The guests are all finishing up their meals and listening politely to the speaker. I still can’t find Ben and Samantha in the crowd anywhere.</p>
<p><em>"Where is Berserker?</em>" I ask.</p>
<p><em>”He’s sticking close to Clemenson,”</em> replies Claire.</p>
<p>
  <em>”Have you gotten a fix on the other readings yet?”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>”No... I only have confirmation on Caster, Saber, Archer, and Berserker. Beyond that... there’s at least one other reading, but I can’t get a lock on the stronger one, and the weaker one... Stupid thing! Work, damn you!”</em>
</p>
<p>I hear a loud thump. Better to let that one go for now.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Archer is still sitting at his table, talking quickly in a low voice with some of the other men seated with him. He seems extremely agitated. Saber is hovering nearby, behaving as an attentive server.</p>
<p><em>"Hear anything interesting?</em>" I ask him through Claire’s link.</p>
<p>
  <em>”I cannot get close enough to make out much... there’s been some trouble at their headquarters, and Archer seems to be blaming our host... I cannot discern much more.”</em>
</p>
<p>–––Huh. That’s certainly interesting.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Caster is still sitting across from me, deep in thought. She looks... annoyed, or something, I can’t quite tell.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>–––Damn. What have we gotten ourselves into here? What does Clemenson have up his sleeve for us now? And it looks like Archer might just start something if we don’t. What should we do?</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>"Fuck it."</em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p><em>”What?”</em> Claire is confused.</p>
<p>
  <em>"This is stupid. If we don’t take the initiative here, someone else will, and then we’ll be at a major disadvantage."</em>
</p>
<p><em>"Well, what would you suggest then?"</em> asks Caster, rousing herself from her thoughts.</p>
<p>
  <em>"I dunno. We just need to stir shit up. Pull a fire alarm or something."</em>
</p>
<p><em>“—I think I can do one better,</em>” says Claire. <em>”You sure you want to do this? I don’t really want to have to eliminate an entire ballroom of people if you fuck up.”</em></p>
<p>
  <em>Don’t worry. This will get them all out of here, and give us the upper hand since we’ll be the only ones who know what’s going on.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“...Alright. I’ll set off the alarms. I’ve cut the outside line, too, so we shouldn’t have any police or fire department interference. Get ready!”</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>------------------------------------------</p>
<p> </p>
<p>–––The lights dim. The refined atmosphere is pierced by the blaring of alarm sirens and flashing emergency lights.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>After a moment of stunned silence the sophisticated air of the party devolves instantly into chaos as the attendees rush towards the door, the staff trying futilely to direct them by some pre-planned fire procedure or running themselves, abandoning instruments and trays and equipment as they go. Caster and I remain seated amidst the din, tensing ourselves for what’s to come.</p>
<p>In only a few minutes, the room is empty. The alarms cease. The lights go back up. Here goes nothing.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>–––I lean back in my chair and take a sip of expensive champagne as I look around the room.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Still seated at the table at the head of the room is Clemenson. Archer and his men are standing at the ready at his table, facing Clemenson. They have no weapons drawn— yet. There are still a few stragglers left in the room when I hear the doors lock themselves. Oh well. Too late to turn back now. Saber stands nearby, still in waiter disguise— but radiating an unmistakable aura of readiness.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“–––More treachery, Clemenson?” Archer inquires, his voice biting.</p>
<p>Clemenson holds up his hands, feigning indignance. “Don’t look at me. Wasn’t me this time.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Sorry about that,” I say, out loud. Archer whirls to look at me. “Crowds make me uncomfortable. Figured I’d thin things out a bit.”</p>
<p>A chuckle from Clemenson. “You have a knack for the unexpected, boy. But this time you just made things more difficult...”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“–––I dunno. I think its more interesting this way.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>We all look around. Near the back of the room, Ben and Samantha approach. Clemenson looks bewildered; Archer glares coldly at the pair.</p>
<p>“And what is the Chairman’s lackey doing here?” he says, towards Clemenson. “Did he buy you off this time?”</p>
<p>“No, no, no.” Clemenson shakes his head. “You’ve got me all wrong, now. Just didn’t want you to feel too special, being the only servant here and all—”</p>
<p>“––So we were insurance, then?” I speak up. “And here I was thinking I was the special one.”</p>
<p>“Quiet, whelp,” Archer snaps. “I will deal with you lat—”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>–––It happens faster than I can react. Berserker appears from nowhere, looming over Archer and his men, who reach into their coats and pull out what appear to be pistols aimed directly at Clemenson and Samantha and I in the same instant as Saber takes off his helm and reveals himself, sword drawn and Caster throws her hands out from her sides and with a flash countless interlocking sigils glow on the walls and ceiling and a host of glowing lances of light stand hovering in mid-air around the room ready to strike.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>No one moves. There’s a scream from somewhere, some unlucky guest caught in the middle of this sudden unstoppable standoff. Hell, I might as well be one of them, I don’t have anything to defend me from this sort of thing either. But I’ve got a job to do:</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A) Try talking; see what information we can get out of everyone.<br/>B) Try talking; see if we can goad [someone] into attacking first [someone else] first. (Specify)<br/>C) Keep quiet, listen and look for an opening for Caster or Saber to strike at [someone]. (Specify)</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0077"><h2>77. Chapter 77</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>X) What everyone was talking about.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>–––Well, this certainly got out of hand quickly.</p><p>I’m frozen in place along with everyone else. Everyone has their fingers on the metaphorical trigger, and no-one wants to move in the fear that someone else will move faster.</p><p>...On the other hand, I’m not currently holding a weapon of my own. So—</p><p> </p><p>“Jesus, what kinds of parties are you all used to going to?”</p><p> </p><p>—With a exaggerated sigh I stand up out of my chair.</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t you have any manners?” I begin, as theatrically as possible. “I know some of you are new to our customs here, but in this day and age we take our fights outside. Doing it in the middle of the party is just... bad taste.”</p><p>Archer’s guards tighten their grips on their pistols. I keep talking.</p><p>“But Clemenson, really. I expected better from a man such as yourself. I mean, up until now it looked like you really knew how to throw a party...” I shake my head.</p><p>“What are you—” Archer begins</p><p> </p><p>–––Here we go:</p><p> </p><p>“Like you have room to talk, Genghis,” I shoot back towards him. “I know you probably threw some crazy yak-roasts back in the day, being the Khan and all, but things have changed now. We have manners, we eat with knives and forks, and we don’t get in fights during dinner, ruler of the known world or not.”</p><p> </p><p>I can see Archer’s men stiffen, tightening their grip on their pistols, but Archer remains nonplussed.</p><p>“––You’re smart, whelp,” he says calmly, “but your knowledge changes nothing.”</p><p>“On the contrary,” replies Clemenson, “It’s very useful for the rest of us here.”</p><p> </p><p>“Boy,” Archer begins, still speaking calmly. “here is another piece of knowledge for you to mull over, since you so well deduced my identity. Do you know why I did something so foolish as to venture here tonight?”</p><p> </p><p>“You finally found a babysitter for the twins?”</p><p> </p><p>–––This shuts him up for a moment. But only a moment.</p><p> </p><p>“I came here,” he says, pressing on, “because this man,” he gestures at Clemenson, “agreed, on peaceful terms, to discuss a mutual exchange of information.”</p><p>“This is true,” Clemenson says.</p><p>“—And while we were meeting, one of my men sends me a message,”</p><p>“Rude of him, to interrupt like that.”</p><p>“––Saying that an armed assassin was caught infiltrating my master’s home.”</p><p>Clemenson just shrugs. “So it did fail, then. A pity.” He stands from his chair and steps forward, gesturing towards Archer. “But if you are the man you claim to be, then why does that bother you so—”</p><p>“I do not betray my word,” says Archer, for the first time appearing angered, “unless I am betrayed first. And this, I’m sure you would agree, is very much a betrayal.”</p><p> </p><p>–––Don’t know how much I believe that last bit, considering how I first met the guy, but if what he’s saying is true, then Clemenson is definitely playing dirty. Gotta be careful trusting Archer, though. He’s way too easy to trust.</p><p>–––Out the corner of my eye, I see Saber tense. <em>”Keep them talking a moment longer,”</em> he says in my head.</p><p> </p><p>“I suppose,” I reply to Archer offhandedly. “You gotta be careful about those assassins, hiding in the dark, shooting people from the shadows... such assholes.”</p><p> </p><p>Clemenson smiles. Archer remains silent. Saber leaps forward towards Clemenson, who had just walked into a hole in Berserker’s defenses.</p><p>Movement flashes all around the room. As Saber nears Clemenson, Berserker rears back and slams down his massive hammer with a crash that makes the floor ripple and crumble with force as it splits, creating a hole that sends bits of floor tumbling onto the floor below. It throws Saber off, forcing him to veer and instead attack Berserker, rushing past him while leaving a nasty slash down the side of his arm. Berserker seems unfazed, and lifts his hammer out of the hole to strike again.</p><p>Almost simultaneously, Archer leaps backwards along with his men, who fire, their guns spitting out lances of gold which impact on the shield Caster throws up around me—but to my horror I can see the shield crack when they impact.</p><p>
  <em>"What? What are they firing?"</em>
</p><p><em>"I do not know,"</em> replies Caster, sounding as startled as I. <em>"To penetrate the outer constructs—they would need to be Noble Phantasms at least... but that is not possible!"</em></p><p> </p><p>I glance over to where Samantha was standing to see if they were hit, but she and Ben are no longer there.</p><p>Another rumble almost throws me off my feet as Saber narrowly dodges another blow of Berserker’s hammer, again splitting the floor itself and sending ceiling plaster raining down on our heads. Across from us, Archer and his men are getting into position for some kind of attack.</p><p>––I can’t just stand here. Not only are we caught in the middle of a 4 way fight, but we’re going to collapse the building on us if we don’t kill each other first. Plus— I glance over to the small mass of guests huddled in the corner by the door, trapped— there’s these people, and everyone else in the hotel who could get hit by our collateral damage if we go all-out.</p><p>What should we do?</p><p> </p><p>A) Have Caster attack all-out!<br/>B) Stop the fight before it’s too late!<br/>C) There has to be another way!</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0078"><h2>78. Chapter 78</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>A) Have Caster attack all-out!</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>...Damnit. I guess the only way to get out of this is to finish what I started.</p><p>“Attack, Caster!”</p><p>Caster wastes no time. With a silky sound the waiting lances fall. Archer and his men dodge nimbly— but not nimbly enough, as one is skewered through like a spit. He does not cry out, or bleed— he simply falls, fading out into nothingness as he does. The other men fire back, and I find myself thrown to the side as Caster moves us up and away towards the back of the room within a glowing barrier. But Caster isn’t done, her mouth emitting a string of eldritch syllables which summon more and more lances from the barriers covering the walls, launching them with deadly precision around the room.</p><p> </p><p>To the front, I can see Saber and Berserker fighting. Saber seems entirely unharmed; Berserker is bloodied in several places but is still advancing like a juggernaut, causing the room to vibrate and crack with every blow. He swings, and a blow glances off Saber’s body, sending him flying—but Saber catches himself and lands a short distance away, his armor dented but seemingly unhurt, and launches himself back at the behemoth faster than I can see.</p><p> </p><p>I’d watch more, but I’m forced to move again as Archer’s men again open fire on Caster and I. Splinters of light fracture off of Caster’s barrier as each shot impacts against it. In the midst of the fire Archer stands, and, gesturing with arms wide, yells out:</p><p> </p><p>”–––Riders, to me!”</p><p>And with a flash of gold more soldiers appear to rise up from the ground beside him, these dressed in body armor and armed with some kind of automatic rifles—I guess Archer’s done being subtle now that we know his identity.</p><p> </p><p><em>”Damnit Will, what the hell are you doing?</em>” Claire’s voice yells in my head. <em>”The whole damn hotel is shaking, we’re losing structural integrity, people have already been killed by falling debris and they’re starting to mass outside—”</em></p><p>She’s starting to sound hysterical. <em>"Calm down! What are you talking about, you said you—"</em></p><p>
  <em>“I did cut the lines! But someone called 911, and now there’s police and fire and ambulances surrounding the whole damn building! They’re going to try breaking into the Ballroom soon! Goddamnit, why did I ever listen to your stupid fucking plan! I can’t cover up this whole situation by myself, I’m going to have to call in a team and they’ll have a review on me and probably kill all these people and it's all your fault—”</em>
</p><p> </p><p>–––My mind is reeling. I shut myself away from her contact. I have to concentrate on the moment now. The crowd of people in the corner screams as a stray shot from Archer’s men blows a straggler away, searing his body into a fine ash.</p><p>“Caster! We have to end this! Now!” I yell over the din.</p><p>“I believe that’s what I’m trying to do already!” Caster replies likewise, repelling more shots with her slowly deteriorating shields.</p><p>“Not like this! The whole damn hotel is crumbling! We have to finish this before we do any more damage!”</p><p>“Damn the hotel! If we have to bring it down—”</p><p>“On top of us? People are dying, Caster.” I’m beginning to panic. The shields get weaker. We have to end this now, or people are going to die! We’re going to die!”</p><p>I hear a *shunk* as a lance skewers another one of Archer’s men, but it’s not enough. The fire keeps up. Caster appears pained as she deflects shot after shot, the barrier requiring more and more concentration to keep going.</p><p> </p><p>–––Then, she speaks, and her voice sounds... distant, yet strangely sad.</p><p> </p><p>“...To save this place and its people: is that what you wish?”</p><p> </p><p>A) Yes.<br/>
B) No.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Status Screen Updated!</p><p><strong>Servant Archer</strong><br/>Noble Phantasm:<br/>The Golden Horde: The men of Khan’s horde followed him even into death. Khan’s army is summoned with him, obeys his command (and his master’s) without question, and shares any and all proficiencies with Khan instantly. Additionally, they can be summoned to him at any location, although doing so through magical defenses or across large distances is difficult.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0079"><h2>79. Chapter 79</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>B) No.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>“No—I want to end this, Caster.” I can’t have her doubting me again! “But as cleanly as possible. And right now,” I say, looking out at the crumbling room, “things are getting messy real quick. Now... now might be a good time for that last resort we talked about before.”</p><p>Caster says nothing, but I plow on: “We need your Noble Phantasm, Caster. It’s the only way we’re going to get out of this not buried under a thousand tons of rubble. I know you don’t want to, and I respect that, but I promise you whatever it may be it won’t change anything except for helping us to get out of this alive.”</p><p> </p><p>Caster remains silent, the effort of maintaining her barrier beginning to show on her face—or is that looks something else? I can’t say. Without warning, she speaks. “I will be unable to protect you until I complete the necessary ritual,” she says, her voice now crisp and businesslike, “You must fend for yourself until then. Is this acceptable?”</p><p>“Do we have any choice?” I say. “Do it. I’ll... figure something out.”</p><p>Caster nods. “Very well. I will drop my barrier momentarily—if you run towards the kitchens, you should be able to reach some sort of cover near the walls, and you will be near enough Saber for him to lend you aid.”</p><p>I nod, and begin to ready myself, when,</p><p> </p><p>“Will—”</p><p> </p><p>I’m stopped by Caster’s voice. I turn my head to face her. She stares at me for a moment, an odd pained expression on her face, and then,</p><p> </p><p>“— After this... I hope that you can keep that promise.”</p><p> </p><p>–––and she waves her hand and I see the shimmering veil around me disappear and I sprint over towards the kitchen, keeping my head low and weaving between the fallen tables, hoping to avoid the notice of Archer’s men as long as possible. Which isn’t very long, as I feel the heat of a bolt of gold pass over my head by inches as I reach the kitchen. The doors are locked shut—without Caster’s influence, they can’t be opened. There’s a stone and metal counter, though—probably used as bar during certain events— that I vault behind, hoping it’s thickness will shield me for a short time.</p><p>As I lay against the stone, trying to calm my heaving breath, I hear Caster’s voice ring out clearly above the fray—</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>"––– As a healer I once knew thee;"</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>I relax a bit. That must be the beginning of her ritual, whatever it is. Unfortunately, I can’t give it more thought than that, as I can feel the stones I lean against beginning to warm. I pull my pistol out of it’s pocket in my jacket, holding it like a ward against evil— I know it won’t do me any good against Archer or his men or Berserker, and I doubt I can make it to Clemenson through all that, but it still makes me feel better to have it. I can’t stay here much longer—</p><p> </p><p>A) Bolt towards the stage— I’ll be closer to Saber that way, but also closer to Berserker.<br/>B) Bolt towards the back— I’ll be back closer to Caster, and I could try to blend in with the stranded guests.<br/>C) Try to sneak to the stage— I might be able to stay unseen if I keep low behind the serving tables by the kitchen, but I won’t have much protection there if they find me.<br/>D) Ask Saber to protect me— He can handle everyone for a minute or two, right?</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0080"><h2>80. Chapter 80</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>C) Try to sneak to the stage.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>It’s too dangerous for me to go out in the open right now. Fortunately, there seems to be plenty of cover on this side of the room...</p><p>Crouching as low as I can, I start moving along the side of the bar to where the serving tables meet it. I have less cover here if they realize I’m here, but from the sound of it they’re still trying to shoot through the counter.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>–––As a Wanderer, I found thee;</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>I reach the end of the table. Peeking out, I can see (and feel) Saber and Berserker’s fight not too far away. The floor is a bit treacherous over here— its cracked and splintered, and I’m a little worried that certain parts wouldn’t support my weight. I can’t see Clemenson anywhere.</p><p>Archer’s men are still firing towards the counter I hid behind, but with a start I realize that Archer is no longer amongst him. A quick scan of the room reveals he and a few more soldiers—at least three more than where here before— are advancing cautiously towards where Caster stands—</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>–––By the whiles of Fae I bound thee;</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>—or I should say stood, since the place where I left her is now surrounded in a swirling opaque haze of grey and black... I hope that means it’s working.</p><p>Now what?</p><p> </p><p>A) Continue on and hide behind the stage—I’ll just have to be careful not to fall through (or get caught between Berserker and Saber.)<br/>B) Stay where I am—no-one’s seen me yet.<br/>C) Head back over towards Caster— I have to at least keep moving, and this will keep me nearby whenever she finishes whatever she’s doing.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0081"><h2>81. Chapter 81</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>A) Continue on and hide behind the stage.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Ducking down as low as I can, I weave my way through the rubble and warped flooring towards the stage. Luckily, it seems like no-one has caught a glimpse of me yet.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>–––By the right of Man I claimed thee;</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Caster’s odd chant continues, seeming somewhat... larger, more resonant, than before. I can’t stop and look back now, though. Better to concentrate on what’s ahead of me. I can hear the splintering sound of metal on wood to my right, but it seems like they haven’t noticed me yet. Saber seems to have the upper hand, as I haven’t yet heard metal-on-flesh, but it doesn’t seem like Berserker is slowing at all.</p><p>Careful... I test the ground in front of me with each step. Once or twice I feel it give, almost pitch forward and get stuck, but I manage to keep my footing while keeping out of sight until soon I see the stage in front of me.</p><p>As I reach it I take a quick glance around to get my bearings. There’s still no sign of Clemenson, Samantha, or Ben, but I’m more startled by the fact that the entire back half of the ballroom has been filled with the thick grey fog which had been surrounding Caster. I take a deep breath and duck around the edge of the stage and––</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>–––As your Mistress I command thee;</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>––I leap sideways, narrowly avoiding a flashing strike from above me and landing roughly on my side.</p><p>“Boy, you are an unpredictable one.”</p><p>Well, I guess I found Clemenson. He’s standing above me on the back-side of the stage, obscured from the rest of the room by the banners and signs behind it. He looks relaxed, but I can see his cane driven into the carpet where I was an instant ago—from its ornate head has sprouted a long, narrow stilleto-blade.</p><p>I raise my gun towards him and—</p><p> </p><p>A) Fire!<br/>B) Hold back.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0082"><h2>82. Chapter 82</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>A) Fire!</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>No time to think. My finger squeezes the trigger. I feel the kick, hear the report of it firing.</p><p>Clemenson staggers backwards—he curses, bringing a hand to his face, feeling the blood trickling down from where my bullet grazed his cheek. For a second I see something unfamiliar in his eyes—uncertainty? fear?—but now I’m thinking too much again so I pull the trigger a second time as he dodges nimbly to the right, moving along the back of the stage away from me.</p><p> </p><p>—Distance must be key. However he’s dodging me, he can’t dodge enough to counteract Caster’s magic at close range. But if he’s not close, he can’t hit me with his cane...</p><p> </p><p>I get to my feet as quickly as I can, gripping my pistol tightly,</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>–––The Journey’s End,</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>and I notice that the fog which Caster has summoned is rapidly creeping into this half of the ballroom, making it impossible to make out anything further away than the other side of the stage. Even Berserker and Saber’s fight is obscured by the haze, the sound of their blows dampened.</p><p>Clemenson is only a few yards away now. I’d have to close more distance if I want to be sure to hit him—</p><p> </p><p>A) Pursue him.<br/>B) Hold back.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0083"><h2>83. Chapter 83</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>A) Pursue him.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>No time to sweat the details. I bolt forward towards the retreating Clemenson. As I approach, I fire, but Clemenson spins nimbly and avoids my fire.</p><p>But I’m faster than him. We reach the end of the stage. Visibility is getting worse and worse; I can barely see farther than Clemenson through the mist.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>––––The Hero’s Rest,</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>As he turns, I pull the trigger. As I fire, he lunges forward and as a shot clips his side tearing away expensive tuxedo and skin he thrusts forward with his cane, the stilleto-tip slashing across my exposed hand, holding the gun.</p><p>A sharp, searing pain. Reflexively I drop the gun, the nerves in my hand screaming, and leap sideways awkwardly, landing with my back to the stage. Clemenson is still moving, though, using his momentum to spin and slash his knife-blade back over towards me—</p><p> </p><p>A) Dodge to the side!<br/>B) Draw my other pistol and fire!</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0084"><h2>84. Chapter 84</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>----------------------------<br/>Interlude 6<br/>----------------------------</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>–––The silver fog is silent and impenetrable. Inside, wisps of silver and grey swirl and shape into fantastic shapes, thin strands of mana working their way through complex sigils which weave their way around the room, connecting their creator to the very stuff of the world itself, preparing a feat of magecraft powerful enough to bring a Phantasm into the world.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>In the middle of it all she stands, the final words on the tip of her tongue, feeling the threads of the world around her preparing to unravel according to her will, the hated and loved presence of her domain close, closer than ever, with its reminder of her self, worse than any cost of magic.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>But there was no running now. She’d sworn, then, that she would fulfill this duty, no matter what the cost. Anything else would be meaningless, then.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>And so she opens her mouth and speaks the final words, and the world dissolves into light–––<br/></em>
</p><p> </p><p>----------------------------</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>B) Fire!</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>At the speed of reflex my hand is inside my jacket gripping the hand of my second pistol. No time to aim, no time to draw; as Clemenson’s blade arcs towards my head out of the rapidly thickening fog I aim upwards in my coat and put my trust in Caster’s magic and fire—</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>––––––The Timeless Isle— <em>Avalon!</em></strong>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The sun’s rays burn away the fog surrounding us.</p><p> </p><p>––––The field of gold stretches off into the distance, wave after wave of swaying grass framed distantly by an endless ocean. I feel damp, warm earth beneath me, and I can smell the crisp air of the sea, feel the warmth of a summer sun that should not exist here, in the middle of winter.</p><p>This isn’t the ballroom. Not anymore. This is Caster’s world—a strangely familiar place, yet utterly different from the ballroom in the cold, dark winter.</p><p>Before me, Clemenson is crouched, clutching his shoulder, a trickle of blood escaping between his fingers, his face a mix of pain and shock and astonishment, but I too am too astounded to react. There are no sounds of combat around us, only the soft sound of the breeze on the grass, of waves breaking in the distance.</p><p>Then, with what seems like only a rustle of grass I feel the presence of a familiar figure appear standing beside me. Unsteadily, I get to my feet.</p><p> </p><p>––––Caster stands with regal posture in the middle of the swaying grass. Her dress, already flowing and immaterial, has become more so, a clinging, wispy thing of dark that trails off into feathers of black which whirl off on the breeze. Around her head rests a thin silver circlet, a single grey diamond inset on her forehead, and she radiates an aura of nobility and an almost elemental sense of presence, as if her standing here was the most natural, necessary state of existence. She looks down at me for a moment, impassively, before turning her gaze back across the field.</p><p> </p><p>For a moment, the field is deathly still, all combatants locked up in astonishment— Saber and Berserker, their weapons locked, fall silent; Archer and his men have ceased their advances, looking around in incredulity.</p><p> </p><p>In the midst of it all, as if rising from the grass itself, appears a massive figure; a knight, his body covered in plates of steel covered in weaving knot patterns of vivid emerald green, an axe as big as I am strung across his back. He kneels ponderously before Caster, his massive helm bowed barely level with her head.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s been a long time, Lady Morgan,” he says, his voice rumbling from within his massive helm.</p><p>“Yes, Bercilak,” Caster says, nodding, her voice carrying an unfamiliar tone. “I trust you understand the situation?”</p><p>“Yes, Milady.”</p><p>“Excellent. You have served me well once again, my green knight.” Caster smiles faintly—a true smile, the first I’ve seen since we began here, but it is quickly swallowed back into the almost alien aura which has overtaken her.</p><p>“I have only fulfilled my duty, Mila—”</p><p> </p><p>“––What half-rate sorcery is this?”</p><p>Archer’s voice pierces the veil of wonder which had held everyone in thrall. “More illusions, Witch?” he declares, leveling his rifle towards her. “I thought better of you than that.”</p><p>“Illusion?” Caster replies, her voice retaining its new aura of authority. “You’ll find no illusions here, Khan of half the world. This is not the world you once ruled, nor one you ever could.”</p><p>“Enough. Whatever magecraft this is, it shall not stand up long. Men, destroy this witch. Kill her master if he resists.”</p><p> </p><p>“–––Bercilak.” Caster speaks, never breaking eye contact with Archer. “Protect Will.”</p><p>“As you wish, Milady.”</p><p>...Do I get a say in this? But before I can say anything Caster disappears in a whirl of black feathers.</p><p> </p><p>The knight in green turns his massive head towards me.</p><p>“I await your command, Master,” he says impassively.</p><p>I glance back over in front of me. Clemenson has gotten to his feet, and is brandishing his cane in front of him unsteadily.</p><p> </p><p>A) Tell Caster’s knight to disable him. He can’t do any harm to us now.<br/>B) Tell Caster’s knight to kill him. I don’t want to do it, but I don’t have any choice.<br/>C) Tell Caster’s knight to help Saber with Berserker. I can take care of Clemenson myself.<br/>D) Tell Caster’s knight to help her with Archer. I can take care of Clemenson myself.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0085"><h2>85. Chapter 85</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>D) Tell Caster’s knight to help her with Archer. I can take care of Clemenson myself.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>“Go help Cast— Go help your Mistress,” I say. “She’s up against much more powerful opponents than this; I can handle this man myself.”</p><p>The massive knight looks at me for a moment, and although I can’t see his face I can detect a degree of uncertainty in him as he thinks about my command.</p><p>“...You are my Lady’s Master, so I must obey your commands first,” he says, finally. “As you wish...”</p><p>He turns, and his form vanishes as quickly as it came in a whirl of green grass.</p><p> </p><p>–––Back to the problem at hand. I turn back to where Clemenson is still standing. I can see that he’s weakening— he has taken off his suit-coat, and his white shirt is slowly becoming soaked with blood from his shoulder wound. As I catch his eyes, he laughs harshly, his voice hoarse.</p><p>“You really are... an unpredictable one, aren’t you? I thought... I’d have avoided... this one......”</p><p>–––WIthout warning, he launches himself towards me. —But he’s too slow, he’s weakening, I see him coming and dodge to the right, and now my pistol is in my hand already and I fire, my shot flying wide but curving back and ricocheting off his cane and sending it spinning out of his hand.</p><p> </p><p>Huh. Did I do that?</p><p> </p><p>Clemenson, seemingly at the end of his remaining energy, collapses into the grass.</p><p> </p><p>Holding my gun at the ready, I cautiously approach him where he’s fallen. He lays sprawled out in the long grass, his breathing ragged, his eyes closed. It’s not surprising, really: even given that he was in good shape, he’s still an old man. Still, as I look down at him, he opens his eyes and stares up at me defiantly.</p><p>I stand, gun in hand, overlooking this proud old man, now laying helpless before me. I can’t waste time here; I have to go help Caster and Saber however I can.</p><p> </p><p>A) Kill him.<br/>B) Knock him unconscious.<br/>C) Leave him be; he can’t do much now.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Status Screen Updated!</p><p>
  <strong> Servant Caster</strong>
</p><p>Noble Phantasm(s):</p><p>The Timeless Isle, Avalon- The Raven Lady is the chief of the sisters who rule the Isle of Apples, an island of realty which exists somewhere outside of time. She may enter and exit her kingdom as she pleases, and bring others with her provided they either consent to entry or are unconscious. She can also force areas of normal reality into her realm, provided she has achieved magical domination of the area beforehand.</p><p>As the Isle contains a bit of Arcadia within itself, the illusions of the Fey take on a much more substantial existence within its bounds; this combined with Caster’s complete domination of the territory brings her “Fey’s Illusion” skill to the level of a Marble Phantasm.</p><p>Bercilak de Hautdesert, The Green Knight- A knight rescued by Morgan le Fay in exchange for his servitude against Arthur’s court. Although only an ordinary spirit, his powers are augmented by Caster’s own, allowing him to ignore and eventually heal any wound. Currently resides within Avalon; due to his magically-extended lifespan, he can no longer leave its bounds.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Items:</em>
</p><p>Enchanted Smith &amp; Wesson M&amp;P Compacts<br/>A pair of handguns enchanted for Will by Caster. They can pierce any conventional armor and up to D rank magical armor, and their shots seek their target-- although aiming is still required, and they are nowhere near the level of a certain-hit weapon.</p><p>
  <strong>It seems that Will may have gained a degree of control over what the shots target, although he has yet to test this theory.</strong>
</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0086"><h2>86. Chapter 86</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>A) Kill him.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>...<em>Well Will, this is it</em>, I think as I stand over the collapsed Clemenson.</p><p>I stare down at the broken, wounded man. It seems... wrong, to kill a man who can’t fight back. But I know that’s not true, right? As long as he’s here, all he has to do is call Berserker over and I’m nothing more than a red paste in the grass.... but I can shoot faster than he can summon.</p><p> </p><p>“...I don’t suppose,” I ask, a token gesture at best, “that I could convince you to dismiss Berserker and surrender?”</p><p> </p><p>The old man’s face twists into what I suppose is a grin.</p><p> </p><p>“Now...would that... make... any... difference?” he says, slowly and deliberately.</p><p>I shake my head. He makes a hacking sound, somewhere between a laugh and a cough.</p><p> </p><p>“Now then... I’m gonna call for my monster now... And you’re gonna... shoot me... in the head... an’ that’s all there is to it. So you be ready.... boy....”</p><p> </p><p>With unexpected speed I see him begin to raise his right arm, see the coiled design of a command spell about to unveil and I force myself to keep my eyes open as I pull the trigger and feel the now-familiar jolt of recoil up my arm.</p><p> </p><p>–––The bullet strikes him cleanly in the forehead with a wet crack. Then two more shots to the chest, just in case. The body jerks upwards with the impact like an electrical shock running up it’s spine. Hot liquid splashes up against my suit coat, staining the white red and the black darker as the corpse is still against the grass.</p><p> </p><p>I....</p><p>No. Now is not the time for sentimentality. I’ll... show my respect another time. For a worthy opponent.</p><p> </p><p>–––A little piece of me hardens inside, and I turn away...</p><p> </p><p>---------------------------------<br/>Interlude 7<br/>--------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>Without warning an inhuman bellow of rage and pain the likes of which few have ever heard rings out around the field.</p><p>Berserker stands before Saber. His massive hammer has fallen from his hands, and he screams with a ferocity he had never shown in his plodding, methodical destruction from before.</p><p>Saber walks up to him, his sword aloft. “Cattle die,” he begins, slowly,</p><p> </p><p>––“kinsmen die,<br/>all men are mortal.<br/>Words of praise<br/>will never perish<br/>nor a noble name.”</p><p> </p><p>He smiles sadly. “Wish I’d gotten to know yours, you magnificent brute,”</p><p>–––And decapitates the beast with a single swing.</p><p> </p><p>------------------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>By the time I set out towards Saber, Berserker’s corpse is already falling and evaporating into a fine dust which shifts away in the warm breeze. Saber sees me and calls out.</p><p>“Looks like you got the killing blow this time! You’ll be a fine warrior yet!”</p><p>––You know, that’s really not what I need right no</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>*THUMP*</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>I stumble. Something is... wrong</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>*THUMP*</strong>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>again. It’s that fee</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>*THUMP*</strong>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>ling again no damnit Will you can d</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>*THUMP*</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>o this come on get yourself together</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>*THUMP*</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>you’ve got more important things to worry about.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>*THUMP*</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Somehow I manage to keep my footing. Saber runs up to me, looking concerned, but I wave him off. “I’m fine. Go help Caster. Archer’s not down yet.”</p><p>Saber nods, and with a flash he’s already gone.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>*THUMP*</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>The pain is still... present, but it seems to be fading. At least I can still move, for now. Can still think.</p><p>I look out across the field. It seems that space is... fluid here, because the group of them seem to be a lot farther away than they were a few minutes ago... there are flashes of what look like magical combat far in the distance, where the ground seems to become less flat.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>*THUMP*</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>...Looks like I’ve got a long walk ahead of me. Well, now what?</p><p> </p><p>A) Go to Caster right away.<br/>B) Stay where I am and rest for a moment.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0087"><h2>87. Chapter 87</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>B) Stay where I am and rest for a moment</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>*THUMP*</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Forget it. I’ve got to get to Caster, but I’m not going to be much help right now. Not like this. Maybe if I just find a place to sit down for a moment.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>*THUMP*</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Huh. Was that rock over there a moment ago? I don’t remember. Either way, it looks inviting, so I trudge over and sit down on it. —I must be more tired than I thought, because I find myself laying down on it before I realize it, staring up at the blue sky overhead.</p><p> </p><p>Blue sky... so this is Avalon, huh? I may not be a Literature major, but it doesn’t take much to put two and two together at this point. The mythical island of healing, the final resting place of the legendary King Arthur... wonder if he’s around here somewhere?</p><p>And that... that makes Caster... Morgan Le Fay, doesn’t it?</p><p>I guess I’d figured it out awhile ago, now, what with all the weird dreams and all, but... well, I guess it just didn’t seem right. I thought the Grail was supposed to summon heroes. Because Morgan isn’t exactly a hero in most accounts. More of... well, a villain...ess... I guess.</p><p>
  <strong>*THUMP*</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>She doesn’t seem like a villain. At least... well, there was that time with Rider, I guess. That was kind of villain-y. Villainous. Whatever. Christ, look at me, I’m sitting in fucking Avalon debating grammar with myself. At least my... whatever isn’t acting up so badly anymore. And my hand’s not hurting so much either—</p><p> </p><p>I look down at my right hand and am startled to not see a gaping slash running up parallel to my knuckles, instead seeing only a faint scar, as if from a wound taken years ago.</p><p>–––Huh... I guess the “mythical island of healing” lives up to its name...</p><p>I bolt upright. Of course! When I met Caster, that first night! The dream! She must have took me here then!</p><p>...Huh. Guess that... really isn’t that important, is it?</p><p> </p><p>Well, I’m feeling a lot better now, at least. No organ failure this time, from the feel of it. Least nothing important. I hope.</p><p>Now what? I suppose I could just head for the fight and see if I can be of any help. I could try to talk to Caster first, but... well, I don’t know if she’d answer me, right now. The way she seemed before... Whatever, don’t get hung up on that now. —How about Claire? I wonder if she’s getting any of this. Maybe I should try to contact her too, if I can get the spell-thing to work here.</p><p> </p><p>A) Set off towards Caster.<br/>B) Try to talk to Caster<br/>C) Try and contact Claire.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Status Screen Updated!</p><p><strong> Servant Caster</strong><br/>Noble Phantasm(s):</p><p>The Timeless Isle, Avalon- The Raven Lady is the chief of the sisters who rule the Isle of Apples, an island of realty which exists somewhere outside of time. She may enter and exit her kingdom as she pleases, and bring others with her provided they either consent to entry or are unconscious. She can also force areas of normal reality into her realm, provided she has achieved magical domination of the area beforehand.</p><p>As the Isle contains a bit of Arcadia within itself, the illusions of the Fey take on a much more substantial existence within its bounds; this combined with Caster’s complete domination of the territory brings her “Fey’s Illusion” skill to the level of a Marble Phantasm.</p><p>
  <strong>The Isle protects those who enter its borders with the consent of its Mistress. The Isle’s power heals all wounds of those who enter under Morgan’s protection, even those caused by magical means (although those take a considerably greater time to heal.)</strong>
</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0088"><h2>88. Chapter 88</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>C) Try and contact Claire.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>I guess Claire is probably worried about us by now, I should at least try and check in.</p><p><em>"Hey, Claire?"</em> I’m basically just thinking this in my head, I have no idea how the spell she put on me works. <em>"Can you hear me? Claire?</em></p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>*THUMP*</strong>
</p><p> </p><p><em>”–––––––––Will? Will? Is that you?”</em> I hear Claire’s voice in the back of my head. It’s faint, but I can just make out the words.</p><p>
  <em>"Yeah, it’s me. I—"</em>
</p><p><em>“What the hell is going on!”</em> Claire interrupts hysterically.</p><p><em>"Um... that’s going to take a lot of explaining...</em>"</p><p>
  <em>“Explaining? Will, THE BALLROOM IS GONE. AN ENTIRE REGION OF SPACE IS CURRENTLY MISSING FROM THE INSIDE OF THIS HOTEL. WHAT IN ZELRETCH’S NAME HAS YOUR SERVANT DONE!?”</em>
</p><p><em>"...She used her Noble Phantasm?"</em> I answer despairingly.</p><p>Claire is silent for a moment. <em>”Great, just what I needed right now. Now my servant and my only allies are fighting in a pocket dimension, and I’m stuck in a hotel surrounded by police which are trying to break into a ballroom that doesn’t currently exist. What I wouldn’t give for the second magic right about now...”</em></p><p>"<em>Second magic? What's—"</em></p><p>
  <em>“Never mind. Listen. Is Saber doing alright?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"As far as I know. I— Clemenson is dead. He and Caster are fighting Archer and his men right now."</em>
</p><p><em>“Berserker is dead?”</em> Claire suddenly sounds concerned.<em> ”How are you—”</em></p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>*THUMP*</strong>
</p><p> </p><p><em>"I’m fine."</em> I cut her off. <em>"Is there anything else you need? I’m about to go check on the fighting."</em></p><p>
  <em>“Wait, not yet! You need to tell me—”</em>
</p><p> </p><p>I stand, and abruptly Claire’s voice cuts off. Huh. Guess I got good reception there or something.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>*THUMP*</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>I’ve wasted enough time. Time to go find Caster. I can see flashes, far in the distance, that I’m assuming is the fight. It must be a long way off though, because this plain is mostly flat, and I can barely see it. It’s going to be a long walk....</p><p>Oh well. Sitting here all day won’t do me any good. I get up from my rocky seat take a resolute step forward–––</p><p> </p><p>–––And I’m standing on an outcropping overlooking the most absurd sight I’ve ever seen.</p><p> </p><p>--------------------------------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>
  <em><br/>–––The view which stretches out before me is like something out of a fairy tale. Or an LSD trip.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Giants made of stone and earth march alongside crackling figures made of raw fire and brimstone mounted on steeds of clanking steel. Knights in colorful armor decorated with flowers and leaves lead fantastic beasts on chains which change their shape as they walk—no, as the flow forwards into battle as winged beasts out of a hundred legends wheel and turn in the sky above. Rows of slender archers clothed in foliage line the battlefield, sending volley after volley into the fray beside walking trees that hurl stones the size of trucks. And in the center of it all floats Caster, held in the air above in a column of arcane fire, directing this beautiful, terrible army towards its foes...</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>–––But still, on the other end of the plain, Archer’s army holds the line. They’re dug in behind a small rise, what looks like around fifty or sixty of them, all now in high-tech looking combat armor and each armed with a wicked-looking assault rifle. Archer is in their center, fighting alongside them and shouting orders as he does so, mowing down the horde as they approach. His men move with an absurd level of technical perfection as he shouts his orders. Whatever his weapons are, they’re powerful—but for every fantastic soldier they blow away with their golden fire three more take its place....</em>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>--------------------------------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>Wow.</p><p> </p><p>My half-second of wondering how I managed to get here so fast is blown out of the water by the scene which stretches out before me. Obviously the rules here are a bit different than they are in the normal world.</p><p> </p><p>Below me, the battle rages. It looks like a stalemate—no, not quite. Archer’s weapons are stronger than those of Caster’s soldiers. He may be able to summon more men, but he’s got to have a limit, right? And more and more fantastic warriors are appearing on the horizon every moment to join the ranks of Caster’s army—whether they’re denizens of her kingdom here or just conjured up through her magic I can’t tell, but it doesn’t seem to matter either way.</p><p>–––One thing’s for sure—I am entirely, one-hundred-percent useless in this situation. Why did I even come over here?—</p><p> </p><p>Without warning a familiar emerald figure appears beside me in a swirl of wind. His armor is looks worn, now, and there is a red tinge to the edge of his massive axe. He gives a short bow.</p><p>“You succeeded, Master?”</p><p>“...Yes. I did.”</p><p>His huge helm nods. “Very good. I will inform Lady Morgan of your foe’s defeat and your return.” He starts to turn back towards the battle—</p><p>“Wait!” I call out, and he turns his head back to me.</p><p> </p><p>A) “Take me to Cast—Morgan.”<br/>B) “What’s going on down there?”<br/>C) “Never mind.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0089"><h2>89. Chapter 89</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>B) “What’s going on down there?”</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>“Your vassal’s army is fighting against the enemy you brought here with you, Milord,” replies the knight, sounding confused, “as it appears. I assume you wish to join her in command?”</p><p>“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” I say, still watching the fantastic battle before me. “There’s not a whole lot I could do down there...”</p><p>“Surely you jest, Milord. Anyone powerful enough to take on Milady as a vassal must be a sorcerer of immense power!”</p><p> </p><p>...I guess Sir Bercilak didn’t get the memo about the whole “Holy Grail War” thing.</p><p> </p><p>“–––Of course,” Bercilak says, and I suddenly detect a tinge of hostility in his voice, “Milord has not done anything... untoward to Milady to hold Milady’s allegiance, of course?”</p><p>“No, no, of course not!” I reply, a bit too hastily. “I assure you, it’s a.... mutually beneficial arrangement. Ask her, she’ll explain it to you.”</p><p>This seems to calm him down. I relax. Having a huge guy in plate mail menace over you isn’t something you want to happen twice in a day.</p><p> </p><p>“...So you work for Cas— Morgan, then?”</p><p>“Indeed. I owe everything to Milady.” There’s a hint of pride in his voice as he says this. Not the most subtle character, is he? “She rescued my family and I from ruin, many years ago, and I swore myself into her service as payment. As such, I was her servant on earth for a hundred years, and her servant here in Avalon for at least three hundred more.”</p><p>“She used you to test Gawain, didn’t she?” I ask, remembering my history. “She made it so you wouldn’t die when he cut off your head. She wanted to subvert King Arthur’s court.”</p><p>“...I do not question Milady’s motives, only obey her commands.” Bercilak says, haltingly. “But I do not believe that she has ever ordered me to do anything wrong... knowingly.”</p><p>“Knowingly?”</p><p>–––But the Green Knight has lapsed into silence.</p><p> </p><p>Well, now what?</p><p> </p><p>A) Order Bercilak back into the battle and wait here.<br/>B) Ask more about Caster.<br/>C) Order Bercilak to take you to Caster.<br/>D) Order Bercilak to take you to a better vantage point.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0090"><h2>90. Chapter 90</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>D) Order Bercilak to take you to a better vantage point.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>“...Alright. Bercilak, I can’t do anything if I get in... Morgan’s way. Can you take me somewhere where I can get a better feel for the battle, without putting me in harm's way?”</p><p>Bercilak thinks for a moment. “It’s hard to say. As I am sure you have noticed, this land is.... different than where you came from. It works on... different rules, based on the wishes of its Mistress.”</p><p>“So this valley––”</p><p>“Is here because Milady wished for it to be here, yes,” Bercilak finishes. “And it appears to be responding to her Master as well.”</p><p>–––Guess that explains how I got here so fast.</p><p> </p><p>I look out over the sprawling lowland before me. The battle is still raging, unearthly cries and howls filtering even up to the height I stand. Still, I’m too far back to see Archer’s position well.</p><p>–––Maybe...</p><p>“Then Bercilak, you can report back to Lady Morgan. Tell her that I’m safe, and that Berserker and Clemenson have been.... taken care of.”</p><p>Bercilak gives me a quick bow. “As you wish, Milord,” he says, and vanishes in a flourish of green.</p><p> </p><p>--------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>–––Now then. Let’s see how this works.</p><p>The plain below me is bounded on two sides by gently sloping rises, one of which I stand atop, one of which I’m facing—and from which Caster’s army is steadily streaming into battle. To my right, the ground rises much more dramatically, culminating in a series of rather dramatic looking cliffs that were definitely not there when we got here. To my left, the plain slopes gently down to where it meets the sea.</p><p>Archer and his men are dug in behind a rise near the beach, but that’s about all I can tell from here.</p><p>There’s not a whole lot I can do, but since I can move pretty freely, I guess I could scout around, since Caster seems pretty tied up with keeping her army coming. Were should I go?</p><p> </p><p>A) Go to the cliffs—I can get a better overview of the battlefield from there<br/>B) Go towards the sea—I can get a better look at Archer’s position from there.<br/>C) Cross to the other side of the valley—maybe something new will come up from there?<br/>D) Stay where I am.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0091"><h2>91. Chapter 91</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>C) Cross to the other side.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>I concentrate. Come on Will, you’ve done this before. I’m just going to walk to the other side of the valley, nothing strange at all, all I have to do is take a step and—</p><p>–––A sense of vertigo, and a sudden imbalance as the ground under my feet changes its slant, and I’m standing on the other side.</p><p> </p><p>Well, that wasn’t so bad, was it?</p><p> </p><p>I look out over the battle. It’s as chaotic as before, but from here I can make out their movements better. It looks like Archer’s men in forward positions are slowly retreating towards the sea, towards where Archer himself is entrenched—they’ve erected some kind of shelter out of rocks and sand, digging into a dune to protect themselves from arrows and fire raining down from above.</p><p>There’s too much to take in, though–––</p><p> </p><p>–––A troop of centaurs in gleaming armor gallop past some stragglers, cutting them down with gleaming sabers only to be mowed down by their fellows gunfire.</p><p> </p><p>–––Screaming, a winged wyrm falls from the sky, its wings torn to shreds, crushing a group of faerie archers beneath its massive weight.</p><p> </p><p>Casters troops are... winning. I can see that now. Archer’s men are well dug-in, sure, but Caster’s troops are rapidly outnumbering them. This is a war of attrition, and Caster has all the resources in this fight.</p><p> </p><p>–––Saber rises momentarily out of the melee, tearing through a group of Archer’s soldiers as if they were made of paper before vanishing back into the horde</p><p> </p><p>–––Back where Archer is dug in at the beach, a group of men stand up holding some kind of shield of discarded metal and wood, holding it up against their fire. Archer is standing behind them, hefting something I don’t recognize. Its a rifle, I can tell, but it’s unlike the machine-gun style things most of the men have—its massive, with a long silvery barrel covered in intricate designs, much larger than a normal person could ever aim, let along fire. He’s crouching, stock-still, staring intensely down the scope as he swings it towards––</p><p> </p><p>––––Me?</p><p> </p><p>A flash of gold enfolds my vision. I throw up my hands. No time to think. Instinctively, I—</p><p> </p><p>A) ––Try to dodge!<br/>B) ––Use my Command Spell!</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0092"><h2>92. Chapter 92</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>A) Try to dodge!</strong>
</p><p>Time seems to slow down. I push myself forwards, trying to get in the right frame of mind, willing myself to be somewhere, anywhere other than in the path of that light–––</p><p>–––And as it fills my eyes my consciousness is erased in an instant.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>DEAD END</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>---------------------------------------------------------</p><p>“Gah!”</p><p> </p><p>I blink my eyes rapidly as colors swim in my vision. Momentarily blind, I grope around me, but feel nothing but a smooth wooden surface before me.</p><p>–––I close my eyes. Ugh... my head hurts...</p><p>“Well it should, considering it just got blown off.”</p><p> </p><p>I open my eyes again. Caster “-Sensei” is leaning over the desk in front of me, peering down at me over the tops of her glasses.</p><p>“...I guess I screwed up again?” I say, sighing and slumping back into my chair.</p><p>“You could say that, yes. First you move in range of the enemy, and then you try to dodge a Noble Phantasm? And you were doing so well, too...”</p><p>“Yeah man,” Andy says from beside me, laughing. “You manage to teleport or something twice, and you immediately think you can dodge bullets? This ain't the Matrix! And you’re certainly no Neo.”</p><p>“Yeah, he shows emotion from time to time,” says Samantha.</p><p>“Maybe if it had been a bullet, at that range,” says Claire, “but you already knew that his weapon was special, right? No way you could dodge that, not as a normal human––”</p><p> </p><p>“––Alright, alright, I get it already!” I exclaim. “Trying to dodge was stupid. I won’t do it next time.”</p><p> </p><p>“Remember, Will,” says Caster, “even if it may mess up my plan, or even get me hurt, better that than you die, or even get hurt. I heal quicker than you do, and if you die, I go with you.”</p><p>“Alright. I understand.” ––Well, not entirely. I don’t think I can fully accept letting Caster take a hit for me, but rationally it makes sense, at least.</p><p> </p><p>Caster nods. “Then I won’t keep you any longer.”</p><p> </p><p>–––The world begins to darken and swim in front of my eyes. As I feel that familiar sensation of returning, I hear Caster’s last words trailing off:</p><p>Be prepared, though; things are about to get more difficult...</p><p> </p><p>---------------------------------------------------------</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>He’s crouching, stock-still, staring intensely down the scope as he swings it towards––</p><p> </p><p>––––Me?</p><p> </p><p>A flash of gold enfolds my vision. I throw up my hands. No time to think. Instinctively, I—</p><p> </p><p>A) ––Try to dodge!<br/>B) ––Use my Command Spell!</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0093"><h2>93. Chapter 93</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>A) Try to dodge! This time for sure!</strong>
</p><p>Time seems to slow down. I push myself forwards into a roll, trying to get in the right frame of mind, willing myself to be somewhere, anywhere other than in the path of that light–––</p><p>–––And as it fills my eyes my consciousness is erased in an instant.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>DEAD END</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>---------------------------------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>“Gah!”</p><p>I blink my eyes rapidly as colors swim in my vision. Momentarily blind, I grope around me, but feel nothing but a smooth wooden surface before me. Reluctantly I open my eyes and look around me.</p><p> </p><p>“––Alright class!” Caster says authoritatively, standing at the front of the class, ruler in hand. “Today’s lesson will be about logic. Claire!”</p><p>“Yes, Sensei?” replies Claire.</p><p>“Say you are given two options,” asks Caster, “one of which leads to success, the other to failure. Without knowing which is which, what is the simplest way to determine which will be successful?”</p><p>“The simplest way would be to test one,” replies Claire, “and if it is unsuccessful, then try the other. There’s no certain way to decide which will be successful at first, but if there is no effective penalty for making the wrong initial choice, then after testing one it should become obvious which is which.”</p><p>“Exactly. I’m glad someone here understands.” Caster turns back to the board. “A great thinker of this age once said that insanity is doing the same thing over and over again while expecting different results.”</p><p>“She’s calling you stupid,” says Andy, whispering conspiratorially across the row to me.</p><p> </p><p>”Thank you, Andy,” says Caster, slapping her ruler across her podium and causing us to jump. “Now then, let me explain the situation. You may think it’s cute to try the same choice again after it’s proven futile, but Doink is very drunk right now, and the fact that he’s taking the time to write this in proper grammar means he’s currently caught up in delusions of authorial grandeur, which can make him very persistent. I think it would be best to just move on the story, don’t you? I don’t think he’ll let you ‘break fate’ or whatever right now.”</p><p>“–––I’m sorry, but I’m not following you,” I say, confused.</p><p>“I don’t see what’s so difficult about this––”</p><p>“No, I get that I should try something different this time. But who’s this Doink guy, and what does he have to do with all this?”</p><p>“Never you mind. The important thing is that you quit messing around and move on the story! Please. For all our sakes.”</p><p>Immediately my vision begins to darken, and as I feel myself floating back down into darkness, I think––</p><p>––Man, this Doink guy sounds like a real asshole....</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>---------------------------------------------------------</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>He’s crouching, stock-still, staring intensely down the scope as he swings it towards––</p><p> </p><p>––––Me?</p><p> </p><p>A flash of gold enfolds my vision. I throw up my hands. No time to think. Instinctively, I—</p><p> </p><p>B) ––Use my Command Spell!</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0094"><h2>94. Chapter 94</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>B)––Use my Command Spell!</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>“Caster!”</p><p> </p><p>My hand burns. With a flash of silver Caster appears before me, throwing up her hands, a massive barrier of light arising in the air before her–––</p><p> </p><p>––––A terrible sound like shattering glass. A flash of golden light. A gasp from Caster. She falls to the ground before me</p><p> </p><p>––––The massive army below begins to flicker, bellowing with confusion and pain</p><p> </p><p>–––Plowing through the melee like a breaking wave comes Saber, shrugging off gunfire like flea-bites as he tears his way through the ranks of Archer’s men. A single leap sends him up through the final barrier, and a single swipe of his blade cleaves it in two, sending him straight for Archer. He tries to turn and fire, but Saber is faster.</p><p> </p><p>–––A sickening feeling, as if the earth itself has dropped out from under my feet, and the world shatters.</p><p> </p><p>––––I stagger and open my eyes.</p><p> </p><p>This is... the ballroom. No sign of a valley, no armies of legend, just an empty room. Splintered and torn. Tables and chairs flung everywhere.</p><p> </p><p>“Ahh.... Guh....”</p><p> </p><p>I look down. “–––Caster!”</p><p>She’s laying on the dirty carpet before me, clutching her side, the black of her dress stained a darker wet shade. Quickly I kneel down beside her.</p><p>“Are you––”</p><p>“I am.... fine,” she says through clenched teeth. “This is... nothing... just... let me....”</p><p> </p><p>––––A faint glow of silver emerges from beneath her hands. She tenses up, as if under great strain, and then relaxes, the glow fading.</p><p> </p><p>“There... I... closed the wound... at least...” She tries to sit up, but loses strength partway. I catch her quickly and hold her upright. She looks... better, at least, but she’s still breathing heavily, beads of sweat showing on her forehead.</p><p>“You healed it?”</p><p>“Partly... the inner wound is... deep... will take longer to heal. We need to get... to safety.”</p><p> </p><p>I look up. Saber is standing on nearby, his sword drawn, and I can see the fleeting motes of shimmering dust spiraling away from its tip that can only be the last remains of Archer––––</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>*THUMP*</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>I tense up, almost dropping Caster. She looks up at me, concerned. “Will, are you––”</p><p>“I’m fine. Let’s worry about you right now.” I say, trying to sound stable.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>*THUMP*</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Damnit, I do not have time for this right now. Stop. Go away. I’m not going to deal with whatever this is right now. I’ve got more important things to worry about. Caster’s hurt and it’s my fault. I am going to have to just deal with it, like I did before.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>*THUMP*</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>“Saber, can you get in touch with Claire?”</p><p><em>”Yes, he can,”</em> says Claire’s voice in my ear. She sounds... reserved, quiet.</p><p>
  <em>"Claire, what’s going on? We need to get out of here, past those police––"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Don’t worry about them. They’re... not a problem anymore. Just get out of here quickly. I’ll meet you outside.”</em>
</p><p>Her voice cuts off.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>*THUMP*</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>“Alright. Come on, lets get out of here.”</p><p>I grab Caster’s wrists and pull her around to my back. She protests weakly, but doesn’t resist, wrapping her arms around my neck for support so I can stand.</p><p>–––She’s surprisingly light. Disturbingly so. Much less than any person should weigh. But I guess she’s not really a person, is she? She’s about as warm as one, though...</p><p>Cautiously we head for the main door. Looking over towards the stage, I can see Clemenson’s body laying, the carpet underneath his head stained with blood. I look away quickly. I have enough to worry about now.</p><p>We reach the door. Saber, taking the lead, opens the door, and we walk out into the lobby––</p><p> </p><p>––––Into a sea of <strong>RED.</strong></p><p>
  <strong>The walls. The floor. A slick sheen covers them. Wetness gleaming on marble. Bits of flesh floating in puddles. Limbs on chairs. Whole bodies rendered unrecognizable, torn to small pieces, strung up in statuary. A half a body, its face mangled, caught in the obsidian teeth of a stone shark. A head impaled in the horns of a deer. The stench of carrion, of open wound, of rot and flesh and death and BLOOD–––</strong>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <strong>*THUMP*</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>I can feel the bile rising in my throat. I stagger. Caster gasps. Saber just stares, a look of disgust building on his face.</p><p> </p><p><em>"Claire, what––</em>" I trail off, unable to find the words.</p><p><em>”That odd signature we saw in the ballroom?”</em> she replies quietly. <em>”It left just before Caster triggered her Noble Phantasm. Broke through the barriers we set up, somehow. And then... fought its way out.”</em></p><p> </p><p><em>“Fight?”</em> Saber’s voice is forced. <em>“This was a massacre.”</em></p><p>
  <em>”And you’ll be blamed for it if you don’t get the hell out of there. Come on. I’m outside already.”</em>
</p><p> </p><p>----------------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>We leave the lobby. The area outside the hotel is filled with abandoned police cars, their drivers—No, lets not think about that. Claire is standing on the sidewalk waiting for us. She runs over as we approach.</p><p>“Come on. We have to go somewhere.”</p><p>“Alright, where?”</p><p> </p><p>–––Claire is quiet for a moment.</p><p> </p><p>“...Saber and I will return to my apartment,” she says, finally. “You and Caster... need to go somewhere else.”</p><p>“What?” Saber and I are taken aback.</p><p>“I’m sorry, Will. I have to verify something, and I can’t do that with you around. It’s... Association business. We’ll meet back up soon. I’ll contact you.”</p><p>“...Right. So you’re just going to leave me here with a wounded Servant––”</p><p>“–––We will... be fine,” interrupts Caster weakly. “Just find us... a place to rest for the night.”</p><p>Claire looks at me, a mixed expression on her face, before calling for Saber. “Come on. Let’s all get out of this hellhole.”</p><p>They set off down the road, leaving Caster and I alone.</p><p> </p><p>–––Where should we go?</p><p> </p><p>A) Back to my apartment.<br/>
B) A friend’s house<br/>
C) Another hotel.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Status Screen Updated!</p><p>
  <strong>Servant Archer-- DEFEATED </strong>
</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0095"><h2>95. Chapter 95</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>B) A Friend’s House</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>There’s really only one place I can go. My apartment’s probably being watched, and I don’t have enough money for a hotel without Caster’s tricks. Which means freeloading. I don’t want to needlessly involve anyone in this mess, but we have to get off the streets. I guess a single night couldn’t hurt.</p><p> </p><p>–––After all, what are friends for?</p><p> </p><p>I hitch Caster up on my back. She makes a soft sound, but otherwise seems to have fallen asleep—or whatever passes for sleep for a servant, I guess. She’s still breathing, so I’ll just have to hope that means she’s OK. I set off towards the student housing...</p><p> </p><p>----------------------------</p><p> </p><p>After forty-five minutes or so I arrive. It’s a walk I’m used to making, since it’s mostly the same as from my house to this area, and, well, if I’m going to hang out with people this is the way I usually go, since most of my friends live in the student housing over here. I’m spotted a few times as I go, but given that this area is full of students a young man carrying a sleeping young woman back to an apartment is hardly an unusual sight.</p><p> </p><p>I arrive at my destination—a simple townhouse in a row of other identical townhouses—and knock, praying Andy is still awake.</p><p> </p><p>The door swings open, and Andy peers out. He looks me over for a moment, expressionless.</p><p> </p><p>“–––I guess this isn’t the weirdest way you’ve ever shown up here,” is all he says. “Come on in.”</p><p> </p><p>Wordlessly I stagger inside. –––OK, I may have made it sound like getting here was easy, but, well, I’m wearing a suit splattered with other people’s blood and carrying a bleeding woman in an evening dress and robe on my back. I’m exhausted.</p><p>He leads me into the small living room, and motions to the back, past the kitchen. “Put her in the back room,” he says, “on the pullout.” I nod. It was the customary place for people sleeping off whatever at his place. Which I suppose is what Caster is doing, in a matter of speaking.</p><p> </p><p>-------------------------</p><p> </p><p>––––I lay her down on the bed as softly as I can, noticing with relief that Andy had washed the sheets since the last party. She’s still sleeping fitfully, occasionally murmuring things I can’t quite understand, but she doesn’t look like she’s in pain anymore. I pull some covers up over her and leave, closing the door gently behind me.</p><p> </p><p>"––So?”</p><p>Andy approaches me as I leave the kitchen, a mixed expression of excitement and concern on his face––</p><p> </p><p>A) Try and explain the situation to him.<br/>B) Make up a story.<br/>C) Tell him I can’t explain it.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0096"><h2>96. Chapter 96</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>A) Tell him everything</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>“So?” says Andy, reaching me. “What happened?”</p><p>“...You know those stories,” I say slowly, “where the main guy has to explain some crazy fantasy bullshit to someone and there’s no way he can explain it in a way that the guy will believe any of it?”</p><p>“...Yeah?”</p><p>“Well, this is one of those stories....”</p><p> </p><p>--------------------------------------<br/>
Interlude 8<br/>
--------------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>The room is dark. The only light comes in from the streetlights on the streets below, filtered up through the windows. It’s morning, now, almost dawn, but no light has yet entered the sky.</p><p>Claire leans on a plush chair, brooding. Saber is patrolling around outside, leaving her to her thoughts. To her duty.</p><p>Light glints off her hands as she nervously fingers a small shape. A multifaceted red jewel, otherwise unornamented. To the untrained eye, it would seem to be simply a rare and expensive gem, not yet set in jewelry, but to a Magus...</p><p>Finally, resolution. She stands, placing the jewel softly on the white carpet, then quickly crosses to the window, looking out over the courtyard. Snow had begun to fall, a soft flurry which left dots of shadow tracing across the light of the streetlamps, obscured momentarily by a bright shimmer of multi-colored light from behind her. She takes a deep breath, preparing herself––</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“––––Well?” Says a voice.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Claire doesn’t turn around.</p><p>“You obviously have some reason for calling me in person.” ––She speaks again, in that crisp, flawless accent of someone who learned the Queen’s English in school.</p><p> </p><p>“You’ve been keeping things from me,” Claire says, simply.</p><p> </p><p>“That’s an awfully rude way to address one’s superior, don’t you think? Especially after she went through all the trouble to come all the way here.”</p><p>“You and I both know that’s a lie. And we know that’s why you assigned me to this job in the first place.”</p><p>A chuckle. “You are correct, of course. On both counts.”</p><p> </p><p>Claire suddenly whirls around to face the figure: “So why? Why didn’t you tell me anything! Why would a Magician send a Magus to stop something while barely letting her know what she’s trying to stop ! I don’t even know what the Grail is. Why did you strike all mention of Heaven’s Feel from the Association records! It can’t have been simply to stop someone from repeating it, you of all people know that that never works with Magi! And why––”</p><p> </p><p>She stops, catching her breath. The raven-haired figure just watches, a wry expression on her face.</p><p> </p><p>“––––Why am I getting an unknown thaumaturgic signature from a boy who just shows up out of nowhere, without any magical knowledge or experience? And why has it gotten so strong that I can detect it from across town?”</p><p> </p><p>The woman smiles. “You really want to know? About what happened in the 5th Heaven’s Feel? And what’s going to happen in this 6th?”</p><p>Claire grits her teeth. “Yes. If I’m going to do my job––”</p><p> </p><p>“Very well,” says the woman.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>And she tells her.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>--------------------------------------<br/>
Interlude 9<br/>
--------------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>–––––The halls of the building are long and dark.</p><p> </p><p>And empty.</p><p> </p><p>There is only a single sound—the soft pitter-patter of footsteps echoing down the long hallway which lead from the warehouse, which had been converted to a makeshift barracks. Once a bustling place, now devoid of life like the rest of the massive facility. Devoid but for the single small figure walking slowly down the concrete floor of the hallway towards the main building, the command post and living quarters of what remained of one of the richest families in the world.</p><p>He reaches the end of the hall, where what had once been offices had been hastily converted into a lavish living space. No expense had been spared, then. Now, no guards stand before the massive door, no sounds of laughter pass through its wooden frame. Only a sliver of light emerges from underneath the heavy door, and the sound of his footsteps mix with the quiet sound of muffled sobs emanating from within.</p><p> </p><p>He opens the door. An interior office, now a home, where his sister sits on her bed. She’s crying, the choked sobs of a child who has been doing so for a while before.</p><p>Jack sits awkwardly on the bed next to her. He was quiet, as usual. She was always the one to draw attention to herself, to speak her mind, to prattle on about whatever was in her head; while he always drew into the background, observing, thinking, waiting.</p><p> </p><p>–––But now it was just the two of them again.</p><p> </p><p>Anne looks up at him with that expectant expression she always did, willing him to help, to do something, to make things alright again.</p><p> </p><p>“...He’s not coming back, is he?” is all she says.</p><p> </p><p>He wasn’t afraid though. He’d moved on past being afraid a long time ago. He would move on for the both of them, like he always did.</p><p>–––Like he always had to.</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t worry,” is all he says. “It’ll be alright.”</p><p>He pats her on the head as she sobs, the only sound in the dark facility—for a short time a bustling home, now abandoned once more....</p><p> </p><p>--------------------------------------<br/>
Interlude 10<br/>
--------------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>“I still don’t know why you won’t do this yourself.”</p><p> </p><p>The blond youth slides the bag across the smooth mahogany of the desk, an indifferent smile on his face.</p><p>The gaunt figure behind the desk picks up the corners of the bag carefully, unzipping it with a practiced motion and gazing down at the plastic packets inside, their contents a glistening red in the light from the city which filters through the glass window behind him. He closes it, a look of satisfaction on his face.</p><p>“It... distracts me,” is all he says, his voice neutral as always.</p><p>“Really?” The young man stretches lazily. “I find the distraction enjoyable, myself.”</p><p>“You would, yes. But I have more important concerns than mundane enjoyment.”</p><p>“I wouldn’t call 500 cc’s of blood mundane...”</p><p> </p><p>–––The figure waves his hand dismissively.</p><p> </p><p>“Enough. I assume you accomplished what you set out to do this evening?”</p><p>“Oh, more than just that,” the well-tanned young man says, brightening. “I could practically taste it in the air. And that show by his servant... I can’t wait! It’ll make a perfect ending!”</p><p>“Do not get ahead of yourself,” says the pale figure, turning back to the window. “If you allow your... agenda to get in the way of my plan—”</p><p> </p><p>“Your plan?” The young man’s voice is still conversational, now coming from only a few inches behind the figures left ear. “Don’t worry. We still have the same goal, right? I won’t let your little ‘plan’ fail. Otherwise I wouldn’t have let you summon me, remember?”</p><p>“Of course,” says the figure, nonplussed. “You will get what you want, in the end. And I will reach my goal as well...”</p><p> </p><p>-----------------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>“...And that’s how we ended up here,” I finish lamely, after a good hour or so of half-assed explanation.</p><p>Andy looks across the couch at me, a blank expression on his face. Then, suddenly, he cracks a smile.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, that explains a lot,” he says.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“I knew there was no way you could have really scored a chick that hot. I mean, you normally aim at sevens at best––”</p><p>“So do you believe me or not?”</p><p>“...Well,” he says, “either everything you just said is true, or you’re both on some of the craziest drugs in the world that I wish you’d have told me about before you took them. Either way, it’s a good thing you made it here tonight.” He stretches and yawns. “It’s late, and you’re beat. Go get some sleep with Cassie—sorry, Caster back there, and we’ll see what you tell me in the morning.”</p><p>“Thanks, man.” It’s not a perfect understanding, but it’s better than I’d hoped.</p><p>“No problem. God knows you’ve done the same for me plenty of times.” He stands, and heads for the stairs to his room. “Just don’t fight anyone in here, alright? I’m still paying for the new drywall after that last party....”</p><p> </p><p>I stand, tiredness hitting me instantly in a tidal wave of unpleasantness. I stumble to the back room, to where Caster is still sound asleep on the pullout sofa. It may not be proper, but I’m too tired to care, as I flop down on its other side and immediately drop into a deep, dark sleep.....</p><p> </p><p>--------------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>–––It’s a familiar dream.</p><p> </p><p>I’m standing in a library, overshadowed by what seem to be impossibly massive shelves of thick tomes. The light which filters down from up above is muted and gold, and the air within is musty with the smell of old leather, paper, parchment, ink-- ancient smells, as if the library and its contents have existed for far longer than any man can recount.</p><p>At the end of the row, the room suddenly opens up, as if at a crossroads; and the middle, outlined in a column of light, there is a round table, upon which rests sev—no, wait, three cards. I approach them, and I see--</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>On the first card: A fine-bladed cavalry <strong>Sword</strong>, its thin shimmering blade covered in ornate etchings and golden leaf. It exudes an aura of finesse and skill.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>On the second card: A pair of wickedly curved <strong>Claws</strong>, seeming a mixture of metal and flesh and bone, both a weapon and a part of their barbaric unseen wielder. It radiates an untamed ferocity and rage.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>On the third card: An ornately carved <strong>Bow</strong>, masterfully crafted from some unknown wood, beautiful in its functional perfection. It expresses a mastery of craft and tactics, of the well-planned and well-placed strike.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>The cards seem to beckon to me, asking me to examine them more closely. I reach out, tentatively, and pick up—</p><p> </p><p>A) The Sword<br/>
B) The Claws<br/>
C) The Bow</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0097"><h2>97. Chapter 97</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>A) The Sword</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>I close my fingers around the card emblazoned with the sword. As I hold it up to study it more closely, though, the card begins to corrode, as if from where I am holding it, thin tracings of black working their way up the card from my fingers as the card begins to crumble–––</p><p> </p><p>---------------------------------<br/>Day 8 11/10<br/>---------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>I bolt upright to the sound of a loud crash. I’m groggy, not sure how long I slept. It’s still dark, although through the window I can just see a faint line of light on the horizon. Caster is still asleep beside me. Was that real? Or just a part of a dream––</p><p>–––Another crash, followed by the sound like splintering wood, comes from the living room. A voice, muffled, sounds like Andy.</p><p>Alright, that’s not good. Should I go investigate?</p><p> </p><p>A) Go straight to the living room through the door.<br/>B) Sneak out the back and go around the house to the front.<br/>C) Wait here and listen.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0098"><h2>98. Chapter 98</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>A) Go through the door</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>As softly as I can, I turn the knob to the kitchen door, opening it just far enough to peek through, a pistol grasped nervously in my other hand.</p><p>–––I can’t see too well from here, but I can see what happened. The front door is lying in splinters on the floor, as if it had been violently blown from its hinges by some incredible force. Which isn’t going to be hard to find, considering it’s standing in the doorway.</p><p> </p><p>A huge figure––not tall, but massive, almost as wide as he is tall, and he can’t be any taller than me––in a black robe which fills the entire doorframe. His face is as square and squat as the rest of him, its expression lined with age and seemingly set with a stare of righteous displeasure, a short beard of black streaked with grey and grizzled hair. The starched white collar of a clergyman is around his neck, and some sort of rosary is hanging down on his chest.</p><p> </p><p>–––A clergyman? What is going on? He’s staring down the stairwell, which I can’t see from here.</p><p> </p><p>“Where is it?” the man speaks in a deep baritone fitting for a preacher.</p><p>“What the fuck, man?” I hear Andy’s voice from the stairwell.</p><p>“You harbor Anathema. Where is it?” he repeats, his voice cold and passionless.</p><p>“I’m calling the police, you fucking psychopath––”</p><p> </p><p>The man takes a step towards Andy. I can see that he would have no qualms hurting him to get what he wants. I––</p><p> </p><p>A) Step out into the room to distract him.<br/>B) Fire at him from the door.<br/>C) Wait.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0099"><h2>99. Chapter 99</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>B) Fire from the door.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>–––I put my gun to the crack in the door. I can’t aim very well from here, but I pull the trigger and pray that Caster’s magic will help me out.</p><p> </p><p>A gunshot.</p><p> </p><p>–––A swirl of color and smoke.</p><p> </p><p>...Compared to other Servant’s I’ve seen so far, this one seems rather unassuming. A man of average height and build, clad in a suit of armor of brass and leather, his face mostly obscured by a helmet; the style is Greek—no, Roman, judging by the rectangular shield which which he just blocked my bullet. But it isn’t the armor of a conqueror or King; it’s battered and worn, unadorned with badges of rank or status. The armor of a footsoldier, a grunt, a spearman—</p><p> </p><p>But his weapon is what draws the eye. His lance, resting up against his shoulder, is so long that its tip drags the ceiling of the living room, its haft made of simple, worn wood laced over with intricate designs of gold and silver, which extend up to its tip. But the spearhead is obscured by a cloth of pure white with gilded edges, tied off along the shaft—And the middle of that pure white cloth was soaked in fresh wet red which dripped down its edges and ran slowly down the haft, over the hands of its impassive wielder.</p><p> </p><p>–––Lancer. Shit.</p><p> </p><p>Behind him, I can see the Father stop and turn to face me, locking me in with his piercing eyes. Without warning, he closes his eyes. I tense up, ready to move. I can see his mouth moving—he seems to be reciting something quietly to himself.</p><p> </p><p>Snap! His eyes open. “Destroy it,” he says, simply.</p><p> </p><p>I leap to the side, narrowly avoiding a thrust which breaks down the door I was behind a moment before. Then—</p><p> </p><p>“———–––————!”</p><p> </p><p>—A burst of light engulfs Lancer, forcing him to brace his shield before him in the doorframe. Caster is standing beside the bed, barrier at the ready. “Get behind me!” she shouts. I run over to her.</p><p>Lancer is getting up, we have to––</p><p> </p><p>A) ––Fight it out here!<br/>B) ––Run!</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0100"><h2>100. Chapter 100</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>B) ––Run!</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>I grab Caster’s arm. “We’ve got to get out of here!”</p><p>Caster looks at me for a moment, then nods in assent. She flings out an arm, sending the barrier she had just formed flying out towards Lancer. I don’t even wait to watch it impact him as Caster and I bolt out the back door and into backyard, sprinting around the the house. As we round the corner Caster grabs me by the wrist to stop me. She mumbles something and I see the world take on a familiar smokey cast.</p><p>–––I breathe out. We’re safe, for the moment. I nod at Caster, and we continue around the front of the house.</p><p> </p><p>Just in time to see Andy sprinting down the street in front of us. Shit!</p><p><em>"We’ve got to get Andy,</em>" I say, motioning Caster to follow me down the road.</p><p>She sighs. <em>"Very well,</em>" she says, and mutters another quick phrase. For an instant, Andy appears to be frozen in time, the color leaching out of him, before vanishing completely.</p><p>
  <em>"What did you do?"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"The same thing I did to us, just a bit more... forceful. Do not worry about him."</em>
</p><p> </p><p>I see the Father push his way back through the shattered front door. Lancer seems to have returned to spirit form. He looks around suspiciously.</p><p>"<em>Let’s get out of here,"</em> I say. Caster nods, and we set off down the road....</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>-----------------------</p><p> </p><p>“So you weren’t bullshitting or tripping. God-fucking-damn.”</p><p> </p><p>We’re sitting in a coffee shop in the Commercial District, another one of the common hangouts for Andy and I and our group. It’s a small place, frequented by a particular class of student—too poor to hang out at the upper-tier places uptown, too white to go to clubs, and too elitist to go anywhere else. The music is good, at least. Coffee's not bad either.</p><p> </p><p>–––Andy seems to be taking this remarkably well.</p><p>“Man, how in the world did you get caught up in this?”</p><p>“I would tell you if I knew, man. All I know I already told you last night.”</p><p>“God damn...”</p><p> </p><p>“––Ugh, bitter.”</p><p>Caster has a surprised look on her face, her cup still near her lips. I guess this is her first taste of coffee.</p><p>“Sorry, should have warned you. I can get you some sugar or something if you want.”</p><p>“No, its fine. I was just taken aback.” She takes another sip, a distant expression on her face. ––I was a bit surprised when she asked for a cup at all, to be honest.</p><p> </p><p>I look back across the table at Andy, who has an odd half-smile on his face.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“Ah, its nothing. Well look, I had better get back to my place.”</p><p>“You are going back?” asks Caster quizzically.</p><p>“Got to. Have to come up with some excuse to tell the police why some huge guy broke down my front door again.”</p><p>“...Again?”</p><p>“––Don’t ask,” Andy and I both say automatically.</p><p> </p><p>“Anyways, I’m off,” Andy says to a still more confused Caster as he gets out of his chair and starts to put on his jacket.</p><p>“Hold up a sec,” I say. Someone involved in this war knows Andy now, and that’s a dangerous position to be in. I should–––</p><p> </p><p>A) Tell him to get some kind of weapon.<br/>B) Give him one of my guns.<br/>C) Warn him to be careful.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0101"><h2>101. Chapter 101</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>B) Give him a gun</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>I stand, reaching into one of the inner pockets of my jacket and drawing out one of my pistols, and shove it quickly into the side pocket of Andy’s jacket as quickly as I can. No-one seemed to notice. Andy weighs it in his pocket uncertainly.</p><p>“Just in case,” I say.</p><p>“Thanks, but I don’t exactly have a license to carry this sort of thing—”</p><p> </p><p>“Give me a card,” Caster says, not looking up from her coffee.</p><p>“A card?”</p><p>“Yes, from your wallet. Any will do.”</p><p>Andy fishes it out of his pocket and holds up his student ID. Caster looks up and mumblers something. “There.”</p><p>Andy turns it over in his hands “...It looks exactly the same.”</p><p>“To you, yes. To someone else, it will appear as whatever they need to see.”</p><p> </p><p>“Guess that works.” Andy turns to me, fist outstretched. I punch it with mine. “Take care of yourself, man.”</p><p>“Same to you.”</p><p>“Man, all I have to deal with right now is the cops,” he says as he walks away. “Why do I feel like the lucky one?”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>----------------------------------</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Caster and I finish our coffee in silence. Even with the coffee, I’m still exhausted after last night and the four or so hours of sleep I got, plus–––</p><p> </p><p>Well, there seems to be a little tension in the air. Caster seems... distant, like she doesn’t want to talk to me at all. She’s probably mad at me for being stupid and getting her shot.</p><p> </p><p>–––And, well, I can’t really blame her.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>”Will? Caster? Can you hear me?”</em>
</p><p>Suddenly I hear a familiar voice from inside my ear.</p><p>
  <em>"You know, Claire, there’s this thing called a cell phone you could try using––"</em>
</p><p><em>“Ha ha, funny,”</em> she replies, in a voice that suggests anything but amusement. <em>”Listen, we need to talk. I’ll be at our meeting place in the park tonight at nine p.m., alright?”</em></p><p>I look over at Caster, who nods.</p><p>
  <em>"Ok, we’ll be there, I reply."</em>
</p><p>She doesn’t say anything else after that.</p><p> </p><p>------------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>We leave the coffee shop and step back into the morning cold. It’s still only ten in the morning, we’ve got a lot of time before we have to meet Claire.</p><p>I look over at Caster. She still isn’t talking.</p><p>“How are you doing?” I ask hesitantly.</p><p>“Well enough,” she says, after a moment. “My wound is mostly healed, but I would ask that we refrain from any major combat for at least the rest of the day, as I am afraid it would easily re-open.”</p><p>“Alright,” I say. Guess we just have to waste some time, then. What should we do?</p><p> </p><p>A) Hang around the commercial district.<br/>B) Go to the park early and wait there.<br/>C) Find a place to sit and relax.<br/>D) Ask Caster what she wants to do.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0102"><h2>102. Chapter 102</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>A) Hang around the commercial district.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>“I guess there’s no reason to leave the district,” I say. “There’s plenty to do around here, and we’re less likely to get in a fight if we stay around a lot of people.”</p><p>Caster nods. “Lead the way.”</p><p>Right. No pressure...</p><p> </p><p>------------------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>We wander around the streets for awhile. The streets fill along with the rising of the sun, so that by noon the streets are crowded with students and office-workers on their lunch breaks.</p><p>Caster and I weave between the shoppers in silence. I’m trying desperately to find something that would interest her, if only to break the awkward tension. We’ve passed by the most upscale clothing stores in town (but then again, she doesn’t really need to buy clothes, does she? What with her dress-thing) and she didn’t seem interested in the music store when we passed back by. So we’ve mostly just been wandering—which, given the size of the commercial district, means that we’ve already just about seen everything there is to see, at least in the outdoor areas.</p><p> </p><p>Plenty to do my ass. There’s got to be something. The warm buzz of the coffee is beginning to fade, so I’m starting to flag. At this point I’d be fine with just a place to sit down for awhile.</p><p>After making a complete circuit around the district we take a break at a park bench near where we started, by a fountain.</p><p>It’s only noon. We’ve still got hours and hours to kill, and I’ll be damned if we spend the rest of them out here on our feet.</p><p>–––I review some options in my head, from what I know of the rest of the district. There’s the movie theatre down the block; I suppose that that would be a good time waster. We could head uptown again and check out that new art gallery that opened up last month—I haven’t even had a chance to visit there yet. The only good venue in town isn’t too far away, either; I guess it couldn’t hurt to see if anyone is playing there this afternoon or evening. Or we could just head to the southern part of the district—the “mall” area—and see what we can find there.</p><p>Where should we go?</p><p> </p><p>A) The movie theatre<br/>B) The art gallery<br/>C) The venue<br/>D) The mall</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0103"><h2>103. Chapter 103</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>A) The Movie Theatre</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>To start with, we need to get off our feet for awhile. Sitting down for awhile in a dark theatre sounds really appealing right now, plus I’m sure Caster will find it interesting.</p><p>I get to my feet. “Come on, I have an idea.” Caster stands behind me and follows with a nod.</p><p> </p><p>--------------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>We reach the theatre. Caster stands back as I look at the list of movies that are currently playing. Nothing I particularly want to see, but I guess it doesn’t really matter. I pick out some drama that I’d seen a month or so before. I’ll probably just sleep through the whole thing, but I hope Caster likes it.</p><p>Caster buys our tickets with “money” and we head in to the darkness of the theatre. Caster looks around subtly as we enter, her curiosity obviously getting the better of her. I lead her over to some seats near the middle—it’s not a new movie, so this theatre is almost empty.</p><p>“...So what is this?” she says, finally. “Its like television, right?”</p><p>“Sort of. Just watch. It’ll be a few hours long.”</p><p> </p><p>I settle back into my seat as the previews begin. Maybe I can just close my eyes for a little bit...</p><p> </p><p>----------------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>
  <em><br/>–––There’s a battlefield.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>From the forest which surrounds it you can see the masses of soldiers charging each other, knights on horseback plowing through, colliding, arrows whistling through the air, the sounds and smells of war, of blood and dirt and steel colliding with steel.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Alone, in the middle of the fray, are two knights. No other warrior will approach the helmeted knight in black or his opponent in blue, circling, moving as if they were forces of nature more than men, sparks flashing as their swords collide at speeds almost to fast to follow––</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>She watches from the edge of the forest, the sounds of combat drifting over from across the field of battle. She is an observer, holding no allegiance to either side.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>But then why? What is she doing there? Why is she watching the two’s flashing dance amidst the blood and steel? What does she have to do with all this destruction and death, this meaningless slaughter?</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>If I could only make out her face–––</em>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p> </p><p>-------------------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>“Will? Will! Wake up!”</p><p> </p><p>Groggily, I open my eyes to Caster leaning over me, as I’m slumped back in my seat. “Oh, there you are,” I mumble, half aware.</p><p>“Hm?” Caster gives me a funny look.</p><p>“Nothing.” I sit back up in my seat. The lights are back on and the theatre is empty. I stretch lazily, trying to shake the sleep out of my head. “So what did you think of the movie?” I say absentmindedly.</p><p>“It was...” Caster hesitates. “It was interesting,” she finishes, after a moment. I look over at her, but it doesn’t seem like she wants to say anything else.</p><p> </p><p>“...OK.” This is only slightly awkward. I check my watch. It’s still only four in the afternoon. Looks like we’re going to have to waste some more time...</p><p> </p><p>A) Go to the art gallery.<br/>B) Go to the venue.<br/>C) Go to the mall.<br/>D) Wander around some more.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0104"><h2>104. Chapter 104</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>A) Go to the art gallery.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>I guess if we have to find something to do, we might as well do something I wanted to do anyways.</p><p>“We still have plenty of time. Want to visit an art gallery?” I ask Caster.</p><p>“Gallery?” She seems confused. “I... suppose. I don’t see why though.”</p><p>“It’s not like we have anything better to do right now. Besides, have I steered you wrong yet?”</p><p>“I’m afraid I do not understand the metaphor...”</p><p>“Er... Anyways, lets go.” I get to my feet. “People will start coming in for the next movie.”</p><p>“Next movie?” Caster gets up and follows me out of the theatre.</p><p> </p><p>----------------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>After a few minutes walk we arrive at the gallery. It’s no art museum, just a little place in the upper stories of an old apartment building, re-converted the way so many galleries are. It’s mostly local and student artwork, but since the art school at St. Martin’s is relatively prestigious that shouldn’t be a problem.</p><p>We walk up the stairs to the entrance hall, a long room cut out of the center of the gallery into the floor above. In the center is a sculpture, twisting strands of steel and brass that curl upwards together towards the ceiling.</p><p>I hear Caster catch her breath behind me. “What is that?”</p><p>“A sculpture. Probably by a professor.”</p><p>“Is it... it looks like tree roots, or a spiral, or...” She has a look of confused wonderment on her face, one that I recognize from—</p><p> </p><p>“You like it?”</p><p>I hear a voice from behind us.</p><p>I whip around, expecting the worst. But I just see a young man, a bit older than me, dressed in a white collared shirt and slacks with a nametag declaring him a “Gallery Caretaker.” His sandy brown hair and stubble seems oddly familiar...</p><p> </p><p>“Jeff?”</p><p>“...Will? Holy—Will!”</p><p> </p><p>Caster looks confused. “You know this man?”</p><p>“Yeah!” I say, shaking his hand earnestly. “We had a class together what, a semester ago? Art history. He was an art major, saved my ass on the final.”</p><p>“Not my fault you don’t appreciate the lives of the artists,” he says with a smile. “But man, it’s been ages. What’ve you been up to?”</p><p>“Let’s just say I’ve been busy and leave it at that. How about you? You work here now?”</p><p>“Yeah, I got lucky. This place opened right as I graduated. Pay sucks, but I get to meet all the artists that come through, plus I get my stuff shown from time to time.”</p><p>“Nice, nice.”</p><p> </p><p>Jeff notices Caster again. “Sorry. I’m Jeff, Jeff Bridges.”</p><p>“Cassandra.” Caster gives a polite nod of acknowledgment.</p><p>“So, what brings you two here today?”</p><p>“Just showing her the town, figured we’d drop in since I wanted to see the place myself.”</p><p> </p><p>“Well then,” he says, gesturing towards the rest of the gallery, “you won’t refuse if I give you the grand tour?”</p><p> </p><p>---------------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>Overall, the gallery is pretty impressive. As we meander our way through, Caster seems to start to slip out of whatever mood she was in, talking animatedly with Jeff and I about the finer pieces of artwork we come across. —Honestly, meeting Jeff here was a lifesaver. I wouldn’t be able to say nearly enough about this sort of thing to get Caster going like this. But with him here to spit out facts about artists and movements and styles, we have a great time.</p><p> </p><p>Finally we finish our circuit, returning to the center room and the exit.</p><p> </p><p>“Thanks, man,” I say, nodding at Jeff.</p><p>“No problem, it was nice catching up with you. And your... friend.” He gives me a knowing look. “Say, do you two have any plans tonight?”</p><p>“...Not particularly,” I say, glancing at Caster, who remains expressionless. “Why?”</p><p>“I get off in twenty minutes, and—you remember Mike, right?”</p><p>“Yeah, I ran into him again at Andy’s a few weeks ago.”</p><p>“Well, me and him and Christie were planning on grabbing dinner and going to a show tonight around seven. If you two are free, you’re welcome to come along.”</p><p>I check my watch. It’s about five thirty. Plenty of time before we have to meet Claire. —It seems surreal to do this sort of thing given our situation, but I suppose we don’t really have anything else to do. Hell, it might even be better to travel with a group.</p><p> </p><p>A) Accept and go to the show.<br/>B) Decline.<br/>C) Ask Caster what she wants.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0105"><h2>105. Chapter 105</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>C) Ask Caster</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>I turn to Caster. “I dunno, what do you think? Should we go with them?”</p><p>Caster gives me a funny look, as if questioning what exactly I’m trying to pull here, before turning back to Jeff. “We’d be delighted to,” she says smoothly, not missing a beat.</p><p>“Alright then!” Jeff says happily. “Let me just clock out and we’ll get going.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>-------------------------------------</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>We leave the gallery and head back towards campus, chatting aimlessly as we do so. It’s already starting to get dark, thanks to the time of year, but the sky is clear and starry.</p><p>After about ten minutes of walking we reach a little place right outside the commercial district. It’s a little cafe and bar, built into the bottom floor of one of the few surviving older buildings in town that wasn’t knocked down when they put in the new district. —I say “little”, but its actually a fair size, big enough to be a sit-down restaurant, bar, and occasional venue. As seems to be the case tonight, as a brightly-painted van is parked outside on the curb, a small group of guys unloading boxes of equipment through a side door.</p><p> </p><p>“Jeff! Over here, man!”</p><p>As we enter the door we’re flagged down by a group in a corner booth. I recognize Mike, sitting with a girl I assume is Christie.</p><p>“Will! Good to see you man,” Mike says as we take our seats across from them.</p><p>“Same. Didn’t think I would see you again, after that weekend.”</p><p>He laughs. “Man, that was nothing.”</p><p>“Sure it wasn’t. And I’m sure those football players thought so too.” I laugh as well.</p><p>“Bah,” he says, “I’ve dealt with worse. Oh yeah, this is Christie.” He gestures to the girl beside him, a modestly pretty brunette, who nods in greeting.</p><p>“Nice to meet you,” I reply politely. “And Mike, Christie, this is Cassie.”</p><p>Caster nods. “Nice to meet you all,” she says politely.</p><p> </p><p>The waiter arrives and takes our orders, and as this is a small place our food arrives promptly afterwards. As soon as it does I fall upon it like a beast. I hadn’t realized how hungry I was until now, since the last thing I ate was a muffin or something at the coffee shop this morning. We make polite small talk, of course, Caster especially as she daintily picks at her food.</p><p>“Where are you from, Cassie?” asks Mike. “Your accent is... British? Scottish?”</p><p>"I am originally from the Isles, yes."</p><p>“And you speak so... properly,” Christie says, frowning.</p><p>“I had a very... strict upbringing,” Caster replies with a smile. “I will admit, the modern world is not entirely familiar to me.”</p><p>“Wow, I didn’t think stuff like that happened anymore!” Christie seems excited, pestering Caster with questions. Caster just smiles, fielding them with an ease that makes a bullshitter like me envious.</p><p>“Damn, man.” Jeff exclaims softly, nudging me in the ribs. “Where’d you find her, anyways? An honest-to-god Lady. They just don’t make them like that anymore, do they?”</p><p>I smile ruefully. “You have no idea.”</p><p> </p><p>-----------------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>––––Dinner, as is often the case, turns into drinking.</p><p> </p><p>“First round’s on me!” says Jeff, playing the gracious host. “But only the first. Get whatever you want.”</p><p>Caster and I study the drink menu. “All of these... are alcohol?” Caster asks. I nod. “Perhaps... you had better pick something then.”</p><p>I wasn’t planning on drinking seriously, given our situation, but I can’t refuse Jeff’s offer. So I order a small bottle of wine for the two of us. It arrives, along with some beers and two fancy looking glasses.</p><p>The drinks arrive just as the band finishes setting up in the corner of the cafe that served as a stage on nights like this. I pour my glass and Caster’s as they begin to play.</p><p> </p><p>––––Jeff picked a good concert. They’re certainly a local band, but they're damn good for it. I make a mental note to pick up a CD or seven inch at some point after all this is over.</p><p> </p><p>I sip from my glass slowly. I wonder how Caster likes it? I glance beside me in time to see her finish the last of her glass. Guess she likes it. I’d ask her but the music is too loud for casual conversation at this point. So I just sit back and listen.</p><p>After a song or two, as people are beginning to move onto the floor in front of the band, Christie starts to get to her feet. “Come on, let’s go up there,” she says, looking at us all expectantly. Mike starts to get to his feet, but Jeff shakes his head.</p><p>“I’m alright here,” he says with a laugh. “Been on my feet all day.”</p><p>“Same here,” I say.</p><p>Beside me, Caster stands as well. “I believe I will join them. Is that acceptable?”</p><p>“Yeah, go ahead. Have fun.”</p><p> </p><p>The three of them join the small crowd in front of the band as I settle back into my seat to enjoy the show.</p><p>----------------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>I watch the crowd from my seat. It’s not all that exciting, really—a venue this size, it’s not like there’s any real dancing going on. Especially to the kind of eclectic indie rock this place specializes in. I watch Caster standing with the others, listening, until the open area of the cafe fills up with people and I lose sight of them.</p><p>–––I almost wish I’d joined them, now. Oh well. It’s a nice evening, I’ve got a glass of wine, and I’m listening to good music. It’s almost like, well, normal.</p><p> </p><p>After another forty-five minutes or so the band finishes their set, and after thanking the audience begin to pack up. Jeff and I watch the dispersing crowd for the three. Finally we see them approaching from the area of the bar, drinks in hand—</p><p> </p><p>–––Drinks?</p><p> </p><p>They sit back down at the table, chatting amicably. Caster sets down her glass.</p><p>“How’d you like it?” I ask.</p><p>“I loved it!” Caster replies, sliding back into her seat next to me. “It reminded me of.... what was it? Something you showed me.” She gives a short laugh. “I cannot remember. It is unimportant, I suppose.”</p><p> </p><p>–––There’s something... off about her, I notice as soon as she sits down. Her normally dignified air seems somewhat... relaxed, in a way I’m not entirely comfortable with.</p><p> </p><p>She quickly downs whatever was in the glass she was holding and places it on the table. As soon as she does so, I catch a distinct whiff of something off of it.</p><p>“...What have you been drinking?” I ask carefully.</p><p>“Oh, Christie picked it... something called ‘tequila.’ An interesting flavor.”</p><p> </p><p>“What?” I start.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, calm down,” Caster says, patting my arm. “Do you honestly think I have never had strong spirits before?”</p><p>“You’ve never had tequila! How much did you drink?”</p><p>Her brow furrows. “Some?” she finally answers, somewhat sheepishly.</p><p> </p><p>–––Oh god. She’s drunk, isn't she? I didn’t know servants could get drunk! And what is she doing drinking at a time like this?</p><p> </p><p>“Hey now,” says Christie from across the table, giving me a disapproving look. “Let her have some fun! You should know she doesn’t get to go out much.”</p><p>“Oh, I do not mind,” she says, sliding herself closer to me in a way that makes certain parts of me highly aware of her presence. “After all, I would not have been able to be here tonight at all if it were not for him.” She smiles slyly, as if daring me to raise any objections.</p><p> </p><p>–––I take it all back. This isn’t normal at all. This is very, very bad. Hanging out with old friends and drunken sorceress who might be mad at me while several groups of people are out for our lives? My head is reeling with how many things could go wrong right now.</p><p>Now what should I do?</p><p> </p><p>A) We need to get out of here! I'll come up with some kind of excuse...<br/>B) It's too late now. I'll have to play along and hope things don't get too awkward here...</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0106"><h2>106. Chapter 106</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>B) It’s too late now.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>I sigh inwardly. I guess I’ll just have to play along and hope that I can keep Caster from letting anything slip.</p><p>“––So how are you liking things over on this side of the pond?” Jeff asks Caster.</p><p>“It is... different,” she replies. “So much to see and do... it is a bit overwhelming at times.”</p><p>“Wow, you really were sheltered,” says Mike. Christie shushes him quickly.</p><p>“Yes.” Caster is suddenly quiet. “My father... did not care much for what I thought about things.” She brightens suddenly. “But then Will gave me an excuse to come all the way out here for awhile.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh?” says Christie, leaning forward in her seat.</p><p>Caster nods. “I finally convinced him to send me here, instead of visiting himself.” She leans in closer to me. “So I showed up one day, quite unannounced. If you could have seen the look on his face!” She laughs.</p><p>–––At least we’re in territory we’ve covered before here. I speak up before Caster can. “My dad met hers when he was doing some research in England. He was one of the sponsors of his trip, if I remember right. I don’t know the whole story, but apparently they became good friends. But we lost touch with him after my Dad disappeared.”</p><p>“Whoa. Your Dad disappeared?”</p><p>“I’m so sorry!”</p><p>“It was when I was really little, don’t worry about it,” I answer smoothly. I actually am used to that reply by now. “Anyways, apparently he found me again a few months ago, and tried to get in contact with me. Said he had some things of my Dad’s he was supposed to give me.”</p><p>“––And so I arrived,” says Caster, laughing again.</p><p>“Man,” says Jeff, shaking his head. “Some guys have all the luck.”</p><p>–––I wouldn’t be so sure about that.</p><p> </p><p>“Excuse me!” says Caster to a passing waitress. “I would like another one of these ‘Tequilas’ please.”</p><p>“Haven’t you had enough—”</p><p>“Enough?” says Jeff in disbelief. “And you haven’t even finished that wine you bought!”</p><p>“Exactly!” says Caster in triumph. “What was it you called it? A ‘round’ for this table, please!”</p><p>----------------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>An hour later, we stumble out of the cafe. Jeff waves to us as he walks unsteadily back towards his apartment; Mike is helping Christie by her shoulder, and I’m leading Caster by the hand.</p><p>–––I don’t believe it. She must have—I don’t know, enchanted her liver or something, to be able to drink like that. I managed to talk my way out of any more than a few more drinks, but the rest of them... I don’t think they’re going to have happy mornings. And it’s not even nine yet!</p><p> </p><p>–––What is Claire going to think when she sees this?</p><p> </p><p>Caster still seems to be in high spirits, of course, as we reach the park. It may be just because of the alcohol, but it seems as if that tension from before has melted away, as we joke around about the stories we came up with for the past hour. It’s almost nine, but there’s no sign of Claire or Saber yet.</p><p>As we reach the bend in the trail before the clearing where we were to meet Caster pulls away from me and runs playfully into the middle of it, stopping in the middle to look up at the sky. I follow her gaze upwards. It’s a beautiful night, crisp and clear and cold, and for a moment I’m content to just stand and watch the stars stand out in stark relief overhead.</p><p> </p><p>“––Will.”</p><p>I’m brought back to earth by Caster’s voice.</p><p>“What is it?”</p><p>Her back is still to me, her gaze still at the sky “Why did we do those things today?”</p><p>“Hm?” I wasn’t expecting that. “Well, it’s not like we had anything else to do, right? I just picked the sort of things I would do to waste time. Besides,” I scratch my head, feeling awkward. “I figured I’d show you some of what we do for fun in the modern age.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ah,” she says, turning lightly to face me, a sly smile on her face. “So it was a ‘date’, then.”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, I suppose—wait, what?”</p><p>“A ‘date.’ That is what you people call it, right? When a man takes a woman out to dinner, or to a show, or a movie? That is what Christie called it, at least.”</p><p>“Well, no, not exactly—there’s more to it than that.”</p><p>“Oh, I know. She told me that part too.”</p><p>I can feel the heat rising up to my ears. “That's...”</p><p> </p><p>“Which is... what confuses me.”</p><p>She has turned away from me again. I try to say something, but before she cuts me off before I can speak––</p><p> </p><p>“–––––Do you know how many people I’ve killed?”</p><p> </p><p>That catches me off guard. I’m at a loss to respond. She looks over at me again, and her eyes are cold.</p><p>“Do not look at me like that. You already know who I am, do you not? Surely you’ve figured it out?”</p><p>She moves, suddenly, running lightly over to a nearby park bench. Placing a foot on it she alights into the air, pirouetting above it and coming to rest facing me, her cloak flaring silver out behind her in the light of the nearby lamps.</p><p> </p><p>“I am Morgan Le Fay,” she says. “Sorceress, Queen of Avalon, Lady of Faerie, half-sister and destroyer of the Once and Future King of Camelot.” She gives a mock-bow, the light behind her creating a halo of silver and gold which surrounds her leaves me transfixed, in awe of this image of Morgan, unable to interrupt her monologue.</p><p>“–––I am fickle and malicious and cruel.” Her voice is bitter. “And I destroy everything I cannot control. Everything which stands in my way.</p><p> </p><p>“But you know that already.” She moves, stepping down out of the air, and the moment is shattered. Morgan Le Fay again becomes Caster. Standing before me. Her eyes are still cold and distant, but there's a sadness in them as well, just below the surface.</p><p>“And yet....”</p><p> </p><p>I—</p><p> </p><p>A) Say something.<br/>B) Remain silent.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0107"><h2>107. Chapter 107</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>B) Remain silent.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>–––I never know what to say in these situations, so I don’t say anything.</p><p> </p><p>What would I say, anyways?</p><p> </p><p>I mean, she says she’s Morgan Le Fay, but... all I know about Morgan Le Fay is a bunch of old stories. And she’s supposed to be standing in front of me? That’s just absurd. All I see in front of me is... well, Caster. She’s fickle, yes, and she can be as cruel as she has to be, but... malicious? She’s no villain. Not as far as I’ve seen, at least, and what else can I count? She can say she’s someone else, but... it just doesn’t mean anything to me. What does it mean to me?</p><p> </p><p>What does she mean to me?</p><p> </p><p>...And that’s not enough, is it? It means something to her, after all. Otherwise she wouldn’t be here, standing sadly in a city park thousands of miles and hundreds of years away.</p><p> </p><p>–––I reach out my hand to touch her shoulder.</p><p> </p><p>She stiffens suddenly. A faint glow suddenly surrounds her body. I jerk back my hand.</p><p> </p><p>“They’re here,” she says, her voice suddenly matter-of-fact, no trace of her previous emotions left. The glow fades.</p><p>“What was—” She lets her right arm fall, and a small pool of clear liquid falls from her cupped hand onto the cobblestones.</p><p>“I sobered up,” she says, turning to face the entrance to the clearing.</p><p>I sigh. Of all the terrible awkward timing...</p><p> </p><p>--------------------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>Claire enters the circle of light from the gloom of the pathway, Saber materializing beside her.</p><p> </p><p>–––Something isn’t right. Saber isn’t disguised—he’s in full armor, his sword already drawn. Caster notices too—with a flash her staff is in her hand, and I can see her preparing a barrier spell.</p><p> </p><p>“You can stop that,” says Claire, sighing. “We’re not going to attack you.”</p><p>“I would hope not,” I reply. “But you’re not exactly acting like it.”</p><p>“I’m here to give you a warning.“</p><p>“What happened to being allies?" I shoot back.</p><p>“...Things change,” she says simply. “I don’t want to say I’m not on your side anymore, but... the situation has changed dramatically since the last time we talked. Or rather, my assessment of it has.</p><p>“–––That’s why I’m here. To give you a warning. Because...” she hesitates. “Because you deserve to know before things start...happening.”</p><p> </p><p>She takes a deep breath before continuing. Caster and I remain silent, although I can see her shifting uneasily beside me.</p><p>“I spoke to my superior,” she says, finally, “and convinced her to finally give me some information about the mechanism and history of the Heaven’s Feel ritual itself.”</p><p>“I thought you said no-one in your Association knew anything about this ‘Heaven’s Feel?’”</p><p>“–––They don’t. It was purged from the records after its ‘final’ occurrence, the Fifth.”</p><p>“Then how did she give you information?”</p><p>She sighs. “Because she was the one who purged them. She’s the only one—well, the only one in the Association, anyways—who knows anything about it any more. At least, anything but rumors. Until now. Because she told me.”</p><p> </p><p>----------------------------------------------<br/><em></em></p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>The Heaven’s Feel Ritual was an ingenious plan. The Servants, Heroic Spirits of the finest order, were beings of literally pure Mana. By calling upon the Grail to summon them, they could then capture their essence upon their deaths. By the time Six servants had been killed, the Grail would have enough energy in it to open a hole to Akasha itself—enough to allow any magus to rewrite the world as he saw fit, effectively granting him whatever wish he desired. The “Holy Grail War” between the servants was just an excuse, a cover, a means to an end—it ensured that enough servants would be summoned to fill the grail, and provided a means to eliminate all but the one Master most qualified to wield the resulting power.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>But the creators of the System, in particular the Einzbern family, wanted more than a hole; they wished to create a Gateway, through which they could achieve the families greatest goal, the fabled “Third Magic” of true immortality. To do so, they needed all seven servants in the grail.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>So they summoned an Eighth.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Angra Mainyu. Servant Avenger. The embodiment of all the evils in this world.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Before then, only heroes were summoned by the grail. Avenger broke that rule. He was to be the antithesis of the Heroic Spirit.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And he failed.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>On his death he entered the grail, and his darkness corrupted it, turning the source of infinite magical energy into a source of infinite corruption...<br/></em>
</p><p>--------------------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>“This all happened during the third war,” finishes Claire, “which led to the eventual dismantling of the entire Heaven’s Feel ritual at the end of the fifth, along with the destruction of Angra Mainyu within the grail itself.”</p><p> </p><p>My mind is still to catch up with everything that’s just been dumped on me, but I push on anyways. “But what does this have to do with this war? You said this was the sixth Heaven’s Feel. How did that happen?”</p><p>“That’s the issue. A piece of the Grail must have survived—most likely from the third or fourth ritual, as the entirety of the fifth was wiped out...”</p><p> </p><p>“A piece?”</p><p> </p><p>Claire suddenly hesitates, as if not entirely sure how to go on. “The Grail System is constructed in two parts: firstly, a Greater Grail, or ‘Gate,’ which summons the servants themselves from the Seat of Heroes and act as the physical location where the pathway was to manifest; and secondly a Lesser Grail, or “vessel,” in which the defeated servants were stored until six had been defeated.”</p><p>She turns away from me, for a moment.</p><p>“The reason that the this ritual is occurring is because someone has managed to combine these two elements again. First someone set up a Great Grail somewhere in this town—that would not have been nearly as difficult. And then... a Lesser Grail came to them.”</p><p>“Came to them?”</p><p>“...The Lesser Grail is a much more complex mechanism than the Gate. I don’t think anyone since its original creators would be able to create something like that from scratch. But then a piece of a former grail found its way into the hands of... a normal human. A non-magus, with an interest in occult matters...”</p><p>“...My father,” I finish, putting the pieces together. —I don’t like where this is headed. “Are you saying that I somehow brought—”</p><p>“I’m saying that you are the Lesser Grail!” Clare explodes, whirling to face me. “Don’t you get it, Will? This is all happening because you’re here!”</p><p> </p><p>...For a moment, it doesn’t register. “I don’t... I don’t understand what you’re saying,” I say desperately.</p><p> </p><p>“The Lesser Grail is a human being,” Claire says softly. “The energy is held in a special construct inside their magic circuits. It’s not supposed to work in a non-magus. But your god-damned father, not even a magus himself, somehow got his hands on a piece of one of the most powerful magical artifacts in existence and reverse-engineered it and put it into you. Why do you you think you almost died the first time a servant died? I bet it still hurts you every time one does, doesn’t it?”</p><p> </p><p>The... the Grail?</p><p> </p><p>I’m supposed to be the Grail?</p><p> </p><p>I'm supposed to be the Grail?</p><p> </p><p>That’s... that’s ridiculous.</p><p> </p><p>–––<em>Remember when you were sick,</em> my head tells me unbidden. <em>When your father watched over you. Right before he disappeared. Was he watching his test subject?</em></p><p> </p><p>“No... that just... can’t...” I stagger backwards.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m... I’m sorry, Will,” Claire says. She won’t look me in the eye. I look to Caster for some kind of support, but she’s just staring at me with an undefinable look of surprise and uncertainty and fear which instantly casts me further adrift.</p><p> </p><p>“So what now?” I ask, trying to regain my footing. “Are you going to kill me? Try to end the ritual just like that?” I see Caster stiffen out of the corner of my eye.</p><p>Claire just smiles sadly. “At this point, I wouldn’t even if I wanted to. If I killed you now the energy release would probably level half this town.”</p><p> </p><p>–––All that energy. I never questioned where it came from, did I? Just thought it was something my crazy old man did. I though it was to help me. You bastard! What did you do to me?</p><p> </p><p>“So... since I’m here... this whole thing could take place?”</p><p>“...Yes. The Compact probably knew your father had the piece of the Grail. They may have even manipulated him into crea—” she stops herself.</p><p>“You can finish,” I say, my voice dead.</p><p>“Creating a new Grail. I don’t think that they knew that you were it, but I’m sure they had their suspicions. And now that I can detect your signature from over 50 miles away, I’m sure they—”</p><p> </p><p>“–––Can as well? A brilliant deduction, miss.”</p><p>Without warning, another figure emerges from the shadowy trail into the clearing, his sandy hair and skin set gold by the light from the streetlamps, a soft half-smile on his face as he spreads his arms wide as if in a friendly greeting...</p><p> </p><p>Claire whirls around to face him, Saber taking up a defensive position before her. With a flash, a barrier appears protecting Caster and I. I grab a hold of my pistol within my jacket.</p><p>“Tell me,” he says, striding casually to meet us as if nothing was happening, “are all Magi this quick on the uptake? Or are you just especially gifted?”</p><p> </p><p>“Ben,” I say slowly, hoping that my intuition wasn’t correct. “What the hell are you doing here?”</p><p>“Oh, right.” The sandy-haired young man shakes his head. “I haven’t introduced myself properly yet, have I?”</p><p> </p><p>He gives an over-exaggerated bow, which under the streetlight’s glow looks as if he was on a stage, introducing himself to an adoring crowd.</p><p> </p><p>“Servant Assassin, at your service,” he says.</p><p> </p><p>“–––You’re not Assassin,” Claire shoots back. “Assassin has to be—”</p><p> </p><p>“I know, I know—I don’t really fit the part, do I?” He sighs. “Assassins are so... romantic, aren’t they? They kill for a cause, or for a code, or for money. Me?” He shrugs. “I just killed. It’s a much.... simpler concept, don’t you think? Older, too.”</p><p>With another sigh, he nonchalantly takes a seat on a nearby bench. “But seriously, Magus. You of all people should know how fucked up this war is. Does an.... unconventional Assassin really surprise you that much?”</p><p> </p><p>“Are you going to keep talking, whelp,” says Saber, his voice icy, “or are we going to do what you came here to do?”</p><p>Assassin lets out a short laugh. “Oh, no, I’m just here for him.” He cocks his head in my direction. “Chairman’s orders. Although I guess I wouldn’t mind, if you insist.”</p><p> </p><p>He just sits there, that same half-smile on his face, perfectly relaxed as if nothing here could possibly hurt him. –––He must be crazy! I can feel Caster itching to strike beside me. If she was to attack right now, there’s no way he’d be able to dodge like that!</p><p>But yet... there’s something about his total calm that makes me cautious....</p><p> </p><p>A) Tell Caster to attack.<br/>B) Shoot him myself.<br/>C) Tell Caster to wait.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Status Screen Updated!</p><p>
  <strong>Servant Lancer</strong>
</p><p>Master- Church Executor Father Giovanni<br/>True Name-<br/>Sex- Male<br/>Alignment- Neutral<br/>Strength- C<br/>Endurance- D<br/>Agility- C<br/>Magic- D<br/>Luck- D<br/>Noble Phantasm: EX</p><p>Class Abilities-<br/>Magic Resistance: A. His lance gives him additional protection from magical and divine influence.</p><p>Skills:<br/>None.</p><p>Noble Phantasms:<br/>Unknown</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>Servant Assassin</strong>
</p><p>Master- Samantha Reynolds</p><p>True Name-</p><p>Sex- Male</p><p>Alignment- Chaotic Neutral</p><p>Strength- C<br/>Endurance- B<br/>Agility- A<br/>Magic- B<br/>Luck- F<br/>Noble Phantasm- EX+</p><p>Class Abilities-<br/>Presence Concealment: B. Assassin are able to conceal their Servant aura. However, as a corrupt version of the class, his aura still appears strange to a trained observer even when active, as the class skill cannot completely hide his true nature.</p><p>Skills:<br/>Currently Unknown</p><p>Noble Phantasms:<br/>Currently Unknown.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0108"><h2>108. Chapter 108</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>C) Wait.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Caution wins out. I motion to Caster to wait.</p><p> </p><p>Saber, however, has no such command. With a nod from Claire he begins to advance on Assassin, still seated on the park bench.</p><p> </p><p>“I really wouldn’t do that if I were you,” says Assassin, looking up at Saber with a bored look on his face.</p><p> </p><p>Saber just scoffs. “A lesson in humility is too good for you,” he says, and there is a coldness in his voice that I have not heard before. Slowly, he raises his simple blade. There is a faint glow coming from its tip, beginning to spread down the edge, and as he raises it I hear a faint scraping sound, as if the edge was grating on the air itself.</p><p> </p><p>“Gram ––– Cut!”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Saber leaps forward with a flash of blue. His sword arcs perfectly. It is an unstoppable strike. Nothing could block it. Unless you can dodge it, it will definitely cleave anything—</p><p> </p><p>But Assassin is quick. With inhuman agility he flips backwards over the chair—no, that's not right. He is already standing in the grass behind it before any movement can register in my mind.</p><p>–––But wait. Saber was right. He was too cocky. He may still be standing, but I can see the blood beginning to well up out of the gash in his arm, pouring in a steady stream down to his fingers to drip onto the cobblestones.</p><p>Saber flicks the blood from his blade disdainfully. “Well? Does that wake you up? Are you going to take this seriously now? This blade which cut the anvil on which it was hammered?”</p><p> </p><p>....Wait.</p><p>He’s still smiling.</p><p>Standing there, blood streaming down his arm, smiling. Staring at Saber.</p><p>I follow his gaze, unable to stop myself.</p><p> </p><p>––––Saber’s arm... <em>shreds.</em></p><p> </p><p>Bits of blood and meat. Stringy bits of muscle raining to the ground in time with the clatter-clang of his sword striking the cobblestones. A jet of arterial blood flies out in time with his heartbeat. A pool of red quickly forming under his feet.</p><p>Saber lets out a bestial howl of pain, clutching at the empty stump. How? When did he strike? How did he counterattack that perfect movement, so fast that neither I nor Saber could have responded?</p><p> </p><p>Assassin sighs. “I told you not to do that.”</p><p> </p><p>“Saber!” I hear Claire cry out desperately. She starts to move towards him, preparing a spell, but he holds up his remaining hand, his face is twisted into a grimace of pain.</p><p>“No!” he calls out, his voice choked. “This is not... Go! Just go! I will—”</p><p> </p><p>A wet sound. Assassin is already beside Saber. There’s something in his hand, a short glinting black thing, and its shoved fist-deep into the hole in Saber’s side that was once his arm. He howls again.</p><p>“Will you just shut up? I’m already tired of you. Just die.”</p><p>Assassin twists and pulls. A shower of red sprays out, bathing him in crimson. Saber slumps over, his armor clanking against the stone.</p><p> </p><p>“Saber! Saber!”</p><p>Claire has slumped to her knees. She’s clutching her wrist, watching as the red lines tracing their way up the back of her hand begin to fade along with his body, disintegrating into dust before us, as Assassin stands over him, stained in red, that same soft smile playing across his lips....</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>*THUMP*</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>“Ah, right on cue!” says Assassin delightedly.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>*THUMP*</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>I stumble. Barely keeping my balance. It’s happening again. Just li—</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>*THUMP*</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>—ke Claire said it would. When they die. Saber is—</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>*THUMP*</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>I shut out the thought. Stay in the moment, Will! Focus!</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>*THUMP*</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>“Will!” Caster is beside me, ready to help me stand.</p><p> </p><p>I make up my mind. “Caster—</p><p> </p><p>A) “Get us out of here.”<br/>B) “Protect Claire.”<br/>C) “Attack Assassin.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Status Screen Updated!</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>Servant Saber-- DEFEATED</strong>
</p><p>Master- Claire Drexler<br/>True Name-<br/>Sex- Male<br/>Alignment- Neutral Good</p><p>Strength- A<br/>Endurance- A<br/>Agility- C<br/>Mana- B<br/>Luck- C<br/>Noble Phantasm: A+</p><p>Class Abilities-<br/>Magic Resistance: A</p><p>Riding: C</p><p>Skills:<br/>Currently Unknown.</p><p>Noble Phantasms:<br/>The Sword of Reforged Wrath, Gram—Saber’s blade, which was said to have cut through the very anvil it was hammered upon. Unlike many Noble swords, it does not allow Saber to focus his mana through it to increase his strength, forcing the weirder to rely on his own skill to strike. However, its cutting ability is unmatched, allowing it to cleave through any physical and most magical forms, including other Noble Phantasms.</p><p>When its true form is revealed, it appears to glow blue, as the edge severs the bonds of molecules in the air.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0109"><h2>109. Chapter 109</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>A) “Get us out of here!”</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Caster nods. I can see the panic in her eyes.</p><p>Claire, finally comprehending the danger, gets to her feet, ready to run to us, but hesitates suddenly, staring towards the forest. I follow her gaze.</p><p>A small mass of shapes are beginning to emerge from the woods behind us. A group of people—no. Something is... wrong about them. They move mechanically, lifelessly. And far faster than any person should be able to move—</p><p> </p><p>“—Dead,” says Claire, her voice choked. “You brought Dead.”</p><p>Assassin shrugs. “The Chairman insisted. In case I needed them. I don’t, of course. I just thought it would make things more interesting.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>*THUMP*</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Assassin is standing in front of Caster’s barrier, as if he’s inspecting it. I see his lips move, a string of incomprehensible yet strangely familiar syllables, and the barrier before him shatters.</p><p>Caster reacts in alarm, and with a shout places several more in his way.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>*THUMP*</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, you can speak it too?” Assassin says offhandedly, as he moves on to the next one.</p><p>“Faster than you can, damn it!” Caster is still working, still speaking, a complex spell beginning to weave itself in the air before her—</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>*THUMP*</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>The air is filled with the flashing lights of shattering barriers and Caster’s spell. Claire is working, too—I can see her working some kind of spell of her own, bolstering Caster’s barriers, extending them to protect us from the approaching Dead.</p><p>But Assassin keeps advancing. How? I can see the black object in his hand, a short, shapeless thing, like a shard of obsidian the size of a dagger—</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>*THUMP*</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>—Caster looks exhausted. I can tell she still hasn’t fully recovered from her wound. She grits her teeth in pain.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>*THUMP*</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>––I’m so useless. They’re all fighting over me. Over me. And I can’t do a goddamn thing.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>*THUMP*</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>A cry of pain. The barrier flickers. Caster is clutching her side. Blood is beginning to seep back through her dress.</p><p>I rush towards her—but I am blown backwards roughly by an unseen force. Assassin is already standing between us.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>*THUMP*</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>He clicks his tongue at me. “None of that, now. You need to live through this. You, however,” he says, turning back to Caster, “I have to do something about. The Grail doesn’t need a servant, after all.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>*THUMP*</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>No.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>*THUMP*</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>He raises his weapon.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>*THUMP*</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Weakly, I try to get to my feet. There’s at least ten yards between us. I can’t make it in time.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>*THUMP*</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Caster stares defiantly up at Assassin.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>*THUMP*</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>I stagger. I can’t keep my feet. I’m too weak. Too useless.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>*THUMP*</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>The black object descends.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>*THU–––</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>--------------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>–––It’s a familiar dream.</p><p> </p><p>I’m standing in a library, overshadowed by what seem to be impossibly massive shelves of thick tomes. The light which filters down from up above is muted and gold, and the air within is musty with the smell of old leather, paper, parchment, ink-- ancient smells, as if the library and its contents have existed for far longer than any man can recount.</p><p> </p><p>A familiar dream... I’m beginning to remember now.</p><p> </p><p>At the end of the row, the room suddenly opens up, as if at a crossroads; and the middle, outlined in a column of light, there is a round table.</p><p>This time, only a single, unfamiliar card rests there.</p><p> </p><p>A) Take the card.<br/>B) Leave it.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Status Screen Updated!</p><p>
  <strong>Servant Assassin</strong>
</p><p>Skills:<br/>Divine Language: Although his magical skill is limited, Assassin can speak in the First Tongue well enough to dispel complex magic.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0110"><h2>110. Chapter 110</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>A) Take the card.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>I pick up the card and study it. As I do so, the world around me dissolves into blackness.</p><p>––But this time I’m ready. I do not struggle as the black makes its way up my body. I let it consume me. There is no pain this time—It does not tear at me, but envelops me in a warm, wet darkness.</p><p>I float downwards for what seems like an age, until my feet suddenly set down on some invisible solid. There is a point of light before me, and suddenly I can make out some direction.</p><p>Before me, in the darkness, is the figure from the card. Kneeling, haggard and gaunt. Bound in chains around its ankles and wrists and neck. Wrapped in dirty cloths. A single eye glints from underneath unwashed hair hanging loosely down past its shoulders.</p><p> </p><p>So you’re the one, I say. The one that showed me this.</p><p> </p><p><strong>Yes.</strong> The figure doesn’t move. The voice seems to radiate softly from all around me, empty and lifeless and hollow.</p><p> </p><p>Who are you?</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>The Eighth.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>The Eighth servant?</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>No. Not a servant. A... container.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Container?</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>Yes. Great ones are summoned. Spirits. Souls. They need bodies. The Grail gives them a container. A Body.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>For a... soul? For a heroic spirit?</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>Yes. This is only an incomplete vessel. Unfinished. Destroyed.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Destroyed?</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>Yes. Years ago. Was summoned. Grail process started. No soul implanted. Was... taken apart. Killed. Parts used. Others discarded. This is what is left.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>What were you used for?</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>Made a part of a system. Connected to the Grail. A Conduit.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>By who?</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>Cannot answer. Could not think then. Could only show images. Now there is more power here. Can speak.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Why? Why do you want to talk to me?</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>Incomplete. Wrong. Need self. Need a name.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>A name?</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>Yes. Without a name, the container is nothing. No self. No will.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>A soul. You need a soul.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>Yes. Self, soul, will, Name. The concept is the same.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>You want someone to give you a name?</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>Yes.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>If I gave you a name, what would I get in return?</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>This container. Its status. The power which it wields.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>No more is necessary. I reach my decision.</p><p> </p><p>–––Alright.</p><p> </p><p>I hold out my hand.</p><p> </p><p>–––I’ll give you a name.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>For the first time, the figure moves. It raises its head, its single glinting eye piercing though mine, and for an instant I feel an animalistic fear rise up in my gut as it smiles wickedly at me and as I realize that I am smiling just the same.</p><p> </p><p>And as I feel the darkness descend on me and the weight of my shackles settling around my neck and my wrists and my ankles I laugh and laugh and <strong>laugh</strong>–––</p><p> </p><p>------------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>––UMP*</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>With a crash, Assassin’s weapon is deflected. He stumbles backwards. Caster falls to the ground. A black shape recoils towards its source too fast for a human eye to catch... her eyes follow it unwillingly. She can only look in horror at the scene before her.</p><p> </p><p>Will is on his feet. His jacket discarded. His clothes torn. Beneath him rises a haze of black. He stands in it. His breathing is calm. His face is lowered. Intricate patterns of red are working their way up his face, down his arms, spreading like plague across his body. But most terrifying are the tendrils—thick flat things of black and red emerging from air behind him, waving softly as if alive—no, they are alive, parts of some abominable thing hiding just beyond sight–––</p><p> </p><p>Assassin clicks his tongue. He leaps backwards away from her as a horde of corpses rushes in.</p><p> </p><p>He doesn’t falter. Reaching his hand into the air in front of him, he draws it out. A long, thin blade, a sabre of dark, its razor edge outlined in the faintest crimson. With practiced ease he flicks it to the side, as if testing its heft.</p><p> </p><p>–––And then the Dead are upon him, and the massacre begins.</p><p> </p><p>--------------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong><br/>I flick the blade cleanly across its throat. It lets out a choked inhuman scream as it dissolves into dust. Slice. Parry. I dodge a clumsy clawed slash. Stab. It dissolves around my weapon as I whirl to slice again. I don’t think. The movements come unbidden. Like new muscle memory. Like old knowledge you forgot you had. Dodge. Parry. Riposte. Cut. Thrust.</strong>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <strong>A shadow moves behind me. One has made it too close. It raises up to strike me. A tendril of black emerges from the ground, impaling it, lifting it off the ground as it dissolves into nothingness before curling back up into the non-space it came from––</strong>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <strong>––inside of <em>me.</em></strong>
</p><p> </p><p>--------------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>In less than a minute they are all gone. Dissolved. The cobblestones are littered with their ash. She lays amidst it all. Clutching her side on her knees. Unable to stand, she can only watch the scene unfold around her.</p><p>The figure that was Will stops as the last Dead is destroyed. He flicks his blade out, sending a cloud of Dead-dust flying from it. Throughout it all, his expression has not flickered once. Only a blank look of acceptance, or resignation. Only the crimson tint in his eyes speaks differently, or the creeping tracery of red working its way up his neck.</p><p> </p><p>He looks up at Assassin, standing twenty or so yards away, watching, that same crazed half-smile on his face.</p><p>“Now this is unexpected,” he says. “So you figured out how to use it, did you?”</p><p> </p><p>–––Will is silent.</p><p> </p><p>“Fine, don’t answer me. I know it anyways.” He laughs. “The chairman is going to have a fit when he hears about this. Well? Are you going to do it?” he jeers. “Fight for the honor of your Lady here? Or maybe you’ve developed a taste for killing? Well? Why don’t you try it? Well? Try it!”</p><p> </p><p>–––A flash. Black sabre meets black stone. They separate in an instant. Will parries, dodges to the side. But Assassin is faster. Moves the other way. Slices at a black tendril whipping around to his left. Will winces in pain as the black stone cuts through it, severing an edge. It recoils back and vanishes into the air.</p><p> </p><p>“Feh. Not so tough, are you?” Assassin taunts, leaping to the side as more whip out from Will’s feet, coming at him from all directions. But even their speed isn’t quite enough.</p><p> </p><p>“How long can you keep this up, Will?” he calls out, parrying another with his stone. “Or should I say Avenger? Which one is it now? I can’t tell, can you?”</p><p> </p><p>–––Will cannot beat Assassin. She knows this. Every attack, every onslaught with sword or tendril is met with a dodge, a parry, a strike.</p><p>...But at the same time, Assassin is retreating. He can dodge every one of Will’s attacks, but Will leaves him no opening. Every tendril he cuts is replaced by another. Every strike is promptly parried. He can’t close in for the kill—</p><p> </p><p>She cannot stand by any longer.</p><p>–––Caster cries out, a string of unbroken divine speech, and a torrent of light emerges from the heavens above and comes crashing down towards Assassin.</p><p>He looks up quickly, and as they lance their way into the earth he sidesteps nimbly––</p><p> </p><p>–––Right into the path of Will’s sabre.</p><p> </p><p>A quick flick of the blade. A line of red emerges from a tanned shoulder. Will's form is impeccable.</p><p> </p><p>Assassin just stands for a second, looking at him. “Nice,” he says, finally. “But hardly fair. Two against one? I call foul.”</p><p>In an instant he’s standing a few yards away. He gives a short wave. “Guess I’ll run into you all again. It’s been fun!” Before either can react he is already gone, vanishing into the dark forest, almost undetectable.</p><p> </p><p>Will crouches, the air darkening beneath him, as if he is preparing to make chase–––</p><p> </p><p>“–––Will!”</p><p> </p><p>For the first time since her fall, Caster speaks his name.</p><p>He straightens with a jolt, and begins to turn slowly towards her, the darkness at his feet beginning to fade slowly into nothing. His eyes are glassy, and the set expression on his face seems to fade weakly into one of tired curiosity—</p><p> </p><p>“<strong>Cas</strong>...ter?”</p><p> </p><p>––––He collapses limply on cobblestones.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>---------------------------------<br/>Day 9 11/11<br/>---------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>Slowly, I open my eyes. That’s funny... I don’t remember falling asleep... or what I was doing before I did, for that matter.</p><p>My eyes focus. A plain white ceiling, a cheap ceiling fan spinning lazily above, a faint yellowing water-stain in one corner.</p><p> </p><p>–––Oh. I’m in the back room of Andy’s house. That makes sense. It’s where I usually wake up with holes in my memory. Still, I feel like ass. What was I doing? I usually don’t get hung over this bad...</p><p> </p><p>I can make out some faint voices coming from the next room. Female. Now that’s unusual. They usually don’t last that long...</p><p>Wait, I recognize that voice. Caster! And Claire, by the sound of it! Damn it, they better not be planning without me!</p><p>Now what?</p><p> </p><p>A) I should get up.<br/>B) I’ll just sleep a few more minutes....</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0111"><h2>111. Chapter 111</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is a real turning point of the story, so the Status Screen at the end will contain all remaining servants.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>A) I should get up.</strong>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>No sense laying around in bed all day. Maybe someone out there can tell me what happened last night... my head’s still all foggy.</p>
<p>Well. Time to sit up.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>...Sit up.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>...</p>
<p> </p>
<p>...<em>Sit up.</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>...</p>
<p> </p>
<p>I remain motionless, staring at the ceiling. My body stubbornly refuses to listen to me.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>–––Alright. First things first. Start small, and work my way up.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>I strain. Slowly but surely, I feel my right hand lift off the mattress. It feels like it’s made of lead. Like a foreign limb.</p>
<p>Now I’m starting to freak out. What did I do last night? I must have hit my head or something, I hope I didn’t do anything too bad.</p>
<p>Just a bit more. My hand is out from under my blanket now. Now just raise it up. You can do it. Up. Up. There you go. Not to ba––––</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Red. My hand enters my vision. Intricate lines of red cover my arm. Like some kind of creepy tattoo. Like they grew there. Like an infection. Like–––</p>
<p> </p>
<p>–––My scream brings the other two running into the room.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh gods, you’re awake already,” I hear Caster say, a mix of relief and fear in her voice as her footsteps approach. “Do not try to move. Please.” I feel her grab my arm and force it back down against the sheets.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>I’m panting. My earlier calm has been dispelled. I try to speak, but my jaw feels wired shut, my tongue sluggish. The bed creaks as Caster sits down on its edge next to me. I can hear Claire standing somewhere behind her.</p>
<p>Slowly, carefully, I turn my head a bit so that I can see them.</p>
<p>“What... what happened?” I finally manage, my voice slow and deliberate.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You tell us,” says Claire, her voice tired. Caster shoots her a glare before turning back to me.</p>
<p>“What do you remember?” she asks gently.</p>
<p>I close my eyes. “Too much,” I groan.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>––More footsteps. “He awake?” Andy’s familiar voice comes from the hallway.</p>
<p>“Yea,” Claire calls back.</p>
<p>“Thank god. Was worried there for a minute.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Why are we... back here?” I ask as he enters the back room where I lay.</p>
<p>“Well, after you... collapsed, we had to take you somewhere. We were going to take you back to my apartment, but it seems it was compromised while we were out.” She looks pissed. “So Caster suggested we go back here, since we really didn’t have any other option.”</p>
<p>“So they show up at like midnight carrying you all cut-up and covered in that red shit,” continues Andy, “right when I’ve got like 10 people smoking in my living room.” He lets out a snorting laugh. “They left pretty quick after that. And then Caster did some magicy mumbo-jumbo and left you back here to sleep.”</p>
<p>“Thank you for that absolutely brilliant summary,” says Claire.</p>
<p>“Don’t mention it. Say, Will, next time you bring home an extra can you try to bring someone a bit more agreeable?”</p>
<p>I manage a smile. “You’ll... get used to it.”</p>
<p>“Fat lot of help you are,” she shoots back.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“So... now what?” Carefully I attempt to raise myself off the mattress a bit more. Caster leans over to help me, propping my back up against the back of the bed. The sheet covering my body falls off to my waist. I’m naked again, apparently. My chest, too, is covered in the same bizarre twisting patterns of red.</p>
<p>Claire sighs. “Now we’re screwed, that’s what. We’ve got one servant, an invalid master, and one magus. Against a servant with who-knows-what for a Noble Phantasm and a Dead Apostle.”</p>
<p>“...A what now?”</p>
<p>“Dead Apostle. Our word for vampire.”</p>
<p>“...You’re joking.”</p>
<p>Claire shakes her head. “I wish I was. Those zombie things that attacked us? Those were his Dead. People he’d bitten.”</p>
<p>Great. As if we didn’t already have enough to deal with.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Plus,” she continues, “we can’t stay here long. Your signature has died down somewhat thanks to your... change, but you can’t hide here forever. They’ll find you.”</p>
<p>“On that topic,” says Caster. “What did you do, Will?”</p>
<p>“Well...”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>–––I tell them about the vision, and my conversation with Avenger.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Claire is nodding her head as I finish. “Of course! Why didn’t I think to check that before! A circuit graft is nothing new, just like a magic crest, but to do it between types of beings...”</p>
<p>“So what’s different now? How did I... change, exactly?”</p>
<p>“You... agreed to give Avenger an identity, correct?” asks Caster.</p>
<p>“Yea.”</p>
<p>“So you did. You... merged, somewhat. His circuits are no longer separate from yours. They are your circuits now. But there is a side effect of that. You have always had human and spiritual flesh coexisting inside you, but until now they remained sealed away from each other. Now... the two cannot coexist. So...”</p>
<p>“...So what?”</p>
<p>“...It was replacing you.”</p>
<p>“What?”</p>
<p>“It was replacing you. Converting your human flesh to a spiritual body. I would say that about fifteen percent of your body is now Servant rather than human.”</p>
<p>“...huh.” I don’t really know how to respond to that.</p>
<p>“Do not worry,” she says hastily. “When we returned I placed a seal on your body... or rather, I repaired what I could of your father’s seal. It has stopped the spread inside your body, but...” she trails off.</p>
<p>“...but what?”</p>
<p>“But now you’re bedridden,” finishes Claire. “It’s sealing off a part of your own body, now. So it’s fighting the seal like its a disease.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>....Once again, I’m at a loss. “So what? I’m stuck like this?”</p>
<p>“For now, yes. Until we can find out a better idea. Caster and I have been trying to come up with something, but... well, maybe we better let you two talk about it. You,” she cocks her head at Andy, “let’s give them some time alone.”</p>
<p>“Alright, alright. Giving me orders in my own home...” The two leave the room, closing the door behind them.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Caster is still sitting on the edge of the bed. She’s looking away from me, staring at the wall, silent, as if trying to gather her thoughts together.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A) Say something.<br/>B) Remain silent.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Status Screen Updated!</p>
<p><strong>Servant Avenger</strong><br/>Master- William Cooper.<br/>True Name- ???<br/>Integration Percentage- 15%<br/>Current Aspect- Rider<br/>Sex- ???<br/>Alignment- ???</p>
<p>Strength- ??<br/>Endurance- ??<br/>Agility- ??<br/>Magic- ??<br/>Luck- ??<br/>Noble Phantasm: ????</p>
<p>Class Abilities-<br/>None</p>
<p>Skills:<br/>Grail Conduit: Avenger has access to an effectively endless font of mana. His power is only limited by his circuit's output.</p>
<p>Noble Phantasm:<br/>The Grail Simulacrum-- The Lesser Grail of the 6th Heaven's Feel. This grants Avenger both limitless mana and access to all things currently contained within the grail itself.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><strong>Servant Caster</strong><br/>Master- William Cooper.<br/>True Name- Morgan Le Fay<br/>Sex- Female<br/>Alignment- Neutral</p>
<p>Strength- C<br/>Endurance- D<br/>Agility- A<br/>Mana- A+<br/>Luck- C<br/>Noble Phantasm: B</p>
<p>Class Abilities:<br/>Territory Creation: EX. Casters can create a magical workspace for themselves.<br/>Magical Item Creation: C</p>
<p>Skills:<br/>High Speed Divine Language: Through her time spent in Arcadia, Caster is as much a fey as she is human. Because of this, the Fey taught Caster to speak the language of magic itself.</p>
<p>Fey’s illusion: Caster is a master of illusion, having made contracts with the fey themselves. Her illusions are “illusions of the world” rather than “illusions of the mind”-- they are palpable to any who do not have sufficient magical resistance, and cannot be simply banished by willpower.</p>
<p>Infernal and Elemental Contracts: Having made contracts with powerful demons and elementals in the past, Caster can call upon their powers for aid in emergencies.</p>
<p>Mystic Eyes of Suggestion: Although low-ranking mystic eyes, Caster is adept at using them to hypnotize the unwitting. They have little combat effectiveness, however.</p>
<p>Noble Phantasm(s):</p>
<p>The Timeless Isle, Avalon- Morgan Le Fay is the chief of the sisters who rule the Isle of Apples, an island of realty which exists somewhere outside of time. She may enter and exit her kingdom as she pleases, and bring others with her provided they either consent to entry or are unconscious. She can also force areas of normal reality into her realm, provided she has achieved magical domination of the area beforehand.</p>
<p>As the Isle contains a bit of Arcadia within itself, the illusions of the Fey take on a much more substantial existence within its bounds; this combined with Caster’s complete domination of the territory brings her “Fey’s Illusion” skill to the level of a Marble Phantasm.</p>
<p>The Isle protects those who enter its borders with the consent of its Mistress. The Isle’s power heals all wounds of those who enter under Morgan’s protection, even those caused by magical means (although those take a considerably greater time to heal.)</p>
<p>Bercilak de Hautdesert, The Green Knight- A knight rescued by Morgan le Fay in exchange for his servitude against Arthur’s court. Although only an ordinary spirit, his powers are augmented by Caster’s own, allowing him to ignore and eventually heal any wound. Currently resides within Avalon; due to his magically-extended lifespan, he can no longer leave its bounds.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strong>Servant Lancer</strong>
</p>
<p>Master- Church Executor Father Giovanni<br/>True Name-<br/>Sex- Male<br/>Alignment- Neutral</p>
<p>Strength- C<br/>Endurance- D<br/>Agility- C<br/>Magic- D<br/>Luck- D<br/>Noble Phantasm: EX</p>
<p>Class Abilities-<br/>Magic Resistance: A. His lance gives him additional protection from magical and divine influence.</p>
<p>Skills:<br/>None.</p>
<p>Noble Phantasms:</p>
<p>Unknown</p>
<p> </p>
<p><strong>Servant Assassin</strong><br/>Master- Samantha Reynolds<br/>True Name-<br/>Sex- Male<br/>Alignment- Chaotic Evil</p>
<p>Strength- C<br/>Endurance- B<br/>Agility- A<br/>Magic- B<br/>Luck- F<br/>Noble Phantasm- EX+</p>
<p>Class Abilities-<br/>Presence Concealment: B. Assassin are able to conceal their Servant aura. However, as a corrupt version of the class, his aura still appears strange to a trained observer even when active, as the class skill cannot completely hide his nature.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Skills:<br/>Divine Language: Although his magical skill is limited, Assassin can speak in the First Tongue well enough to dispel complex magic.</p>
<p>Noble Phantasms:</p>
<p>Currently Unknown.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strong>Servant Saber-- DEFEATED</strong>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <strong>Servant Rider-- DEFEATED</strong>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <strong>Servant Archer-- DEFEATED</strong>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <strong>Servant Berserker-- DEFEATED</strong>
</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0112"><h2>112. Chapter 112</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>B) Remain silent.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>We sit in quiet for a moment. I decide to give her a chance to collect her thoughts.</p><p> </p><p>“There is another issue,” she says, breaking the silence. “With the seal I placed on you.”</p><p>“What is it?”</p><p>“Before,” she says, her voice hesitant, “those circuits were sealed away separate from you. They channeled the grail’s mana without ever coming in contact with your body. That was how I was still being provided with mana—the command spell bonded to those circuits. But now...” She bites her lip. “They are your circuits now. Which means that when I seal them off, they are sealed off completely.”</p><p>Finally she turns and looks at me, a look in her eyes that I can’t quite understand.</p><p> </p><p>“–––I am no longer receiving any mana from you, Will. And as long as your circuits are sealed, I have no way of receiving any.”</p><p> </p><p>I sit in stunned silence for a moment. Caster looks away before continuing.</p><p>“Claire and I have been talking. She is still technically a master, so it should be easy to transfer my contract to her.” Her voice is choked, like she’s agreeing to something that she doesn’t really want. “That way we’ll both be able to protect you, and hopefully figure out a way to reverse this process.”</p><p>...Transfer my contract? But that would mean—</p><p>“I’m sorry, Will... but it’s the only way. We... I cannot risk this happening to you...”</p><p>I have to respond.</p><p> </p><p>A) “Remove the seal.”<br/>B) “You’re right.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0113"><h2>113. Chapter 113</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>A) “Remove the seal.”</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>“What?” Caster looks confused.</p><p>“You said you can’t get mana as long as the seal is there, right?”<br/>“Yes, but—”</p><p>“Then get rid of it. Take it off of me. That way we don’t need to worry about changing contracts around, right?”</p><p>“Will, you know what will happen if the seal is removed right now.”</p><p>“Yeah, I do. But that doesn’t matter.”</p><p>“I cannot just let you put yourself in danger like that! You are in no condition to be asking such things!”</p><p>With painful slowness I lift up my right hand, displaying my command spell. “...What if I wasn’t asking?”</p><p> </p><p>–––The room is silent for a few moments.</p><p> </p><p>“You would... do that?”</p><p>“Yea, I would. Sorry. But I can’t sit out of this just yet.”</p><p>“Will, you have no reason to—”</p><p>“No reason? I’m the whole goddamn reason this is happening in the first place! I’m responsible! Those people in the hotel? My fault, basically! I’m not so innocent as you seem to think I am!</p><p>“And besides, you said you couldn’t let me put myself in danger, right? That...” I trail off.</p><p> </p><p>–––What am I really thinking, here? Sure, that’s all technically true. I have to finish this ‘Heaven’s Feel’ and find out how all this happened. Why I’m like this. And I have to make sure no-one else gets hurt in the process.</p><p>But that’s not all, is it? Face it, Will. You know the reason. You goddamn sap.</p><p> </p><p>“...I’m not about to just let you put yourself there in my place, either,” I finish quietly.</p><p> </p><p>Caster stares at me for a moment with an odd look, regretful, almost sad.</p><p>“...I am not the person you think I am, Will.”</p><p>I shake my head. “Don’t care.”</p><p>“Will—”</p><p>“I’ll just keep thinking whatever I want.”</p><p>“You’re not even listening to me! Gods!”</p><p>“I am listening! And I’m telling you not to worry! Just take the damn seal off me, and we can finish all this! Or do you not want to win all of a sudden?”</p><p>“Of course I want to win!” she yells. “I have to win! I have to fix things!”</p><p>“Fix things?”</p><p>“Yes! You think I wanted to be remembered as a villain? As a witch? As the woman who destroyed a kingdom? But that is what I am, am I not? Do not try to tell me that my legacy is anything but this—Morgan le Fay, the Black Lady, the scourge of the Round Table—” She breaks off.</p><p>“So that's... your reason? For being here?”</p><p>“Yes! I damned myself long ago. Better I save everyone from my own petty jealousy.”</p><p>“But—”</p><p>“I’m not even a Heroic Spirit, Will! I made a pact with the Grail! To fight, and achieve it, and fix the damned mess I made! You don’t—”</p><p>She quiets, collecting herself again, before giving me an almost pitying look. “I have beguiled many a man to do my bidding, willing or not,” she says, her voice quiet. “What makes you believe that you’re so different, hmm? Not just some thrall of Morgan—”</p><p> </p><p>“––Morgan le Fay,” I interrupt, angry now, “lived and died hundreds of years ago. I’ve heard stories, but that’s it. Never met her. The name means almost nothing to me.”</p><p> </p><p>I calm myself before I continue. “The only person I see right now is Caster. —Now her, sure, she can be a bit... fickle at times, but that doesn’t make her a bad person. Hell, she’s saved my life enough times for it not to matter anyways. And it’s not like every pretty woman doesn’t mess with my head to begin with, so I’m used to it by now.</p><p>“So save the ‘Mighty Sorceress’ bit, will you? Christ, maybe I am just delusional, but for now I just want to get out of bed, win this damn war, get you your wish, and maybe get a chance to figure out just what I... what all this is,” I finish lamely, unable to complete the thought. God, I’m a sap.</p><p>Caster is quiet. She doesn’t look at me.</p><p>“Besides... I know you don’t really want to be stuck with Claire, do you?” I try to smile. “By the time you two finished planning anything you’d already have lost.”</p><p> </p><p>After what seems like an age, Caster laughs softly, a low sound which seems to defuse so much of the tension in the air. “Gods,” she says to herself, “to think I set out seeking the Grail to begin with. I never imagined it would end up being a person as difficult as you.”</p><p>I smile. “And I never thought I’d be hanging around with a Sorceress. Life does that to you sometimes.”</p><p>Caster smiles again as she turns to me, and this time I can feel a genuine warmth behind it, a look that tightens up something inside my chest that I am nowhere near poetic enough to describe.</p><p> </p><p>“Very well, Will. I shall... oblige you.”</p><p> </p><p>Without warning she moves in, close to me. Dangerously close. “Caster? What—”</p><p>“Just be quiet for a moment. This will not take long.”</p><p>“OK, but what—”</p><p> </p><p>—My thoughts are interrupted by the feeling of something warm and soft against my lips.</p><p> </p><p>We stay like that for a long moment before Caster pulls away, a soft smile on her face. We sit like that for a moment in awkward silent.</p><p>“...Not that I’m complaining,” I say, finally, “but what does this have to do with removing my seal?”</p><p>“Oh?” Caster replies. “I forgot you are unfamiliar with thaumaturgy. Your circuits are sealed, right? So there is no mana running through them. To break the seal off, I just need to add a little of my own to get it flowing again.”</p><p>“...and?”</p><p>Caster smiles slyly. “There are a few ways to do that, of course. The most efficient way, given that you are a man and I am a woman, would be through sexual contact.”</p><p>“Alright, but—” I snap my mouth shut, realizing what she said. “....Wait, what?”</p><p>“It’s basic magical theory,” Caster says matter-of-factly.</p><p>“OK, but, well, um—” I deflate. “You’re joking.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh? Am I?” Caster moves in close again, running her hand down my chest as she leans in to kiss me again. I return it this time, cautiously. It’s no deep, passionate kiss, but its enough, in this case. It’s something real. Something I can hold onto. Something—</p><p> </p><p>I feel a jolt run up my spine as Caster traces something on my chest, and she draws back again, sitting back up on the bed.</p><p> </p><p>“There,” she says simply.</p><p> </p><p>“...There?”</p><p> </p><p>“I released the seal. You should be able to move normally now.”</p><p>“...Huh?” I blink. “But then what was that about—”</p><p>“That?” She smiles. “All true, technically. But unnecessary in this case. A simple spell was enough, after all.”</p><p>I just stare at her for a moment, dumbfounded. She lets out a soft giggle.</p><p>“Then what was that... about?”</p><p>“That?” Caster replies with feigned innocence.</p><p>“You know! The kissing!”</p><p>She shrugs. “Do I need a reason? Perhaps I just wanted to. What was it you said? I can be ‘fickle at times’.”</p><p>“I—”</p><p> </p><p>I fall back on my pillow with a laugh. “I did say that, didn’t I?” God. That girl is... she’s like alcohol, I think to myself. Constantly makes a fool out of me, but for some reason I love it anyways.</p><p>She laughs too. “Now, come on. We’ve been in here for long enough, I’m sure the two of them are wondering just what we’re discussing in here.”</p><p>“Let them wonder, then. Andy’s probably got his ear pressed to the damn door at this point.”</p><p>Caster nods, getting to her feet. “He would do that sort of thing.” She turns, extending her hand down to me. “Come on. You should be able to stand now.”</p><p>I take her hand, warm and soft in mine, and let her pull me to my feet.</p><p> </p><p>“How do you feel?” she asks anxiously, worry creeping back into her voice.</p><p>“Me? I feel... actually I feel great,” I reply. I’m not lying. It’s like all that stiffness and tiredness from just a few minutes ago never happened. “Better than great.” My body feels... lighter than usual. Like you feel after a good long sleep. If it wasn’t for the spindly red designs all over my body, I’d say I was in perfect health.</p><p>Caster nods. “That is good, at least. Your body seems to be accepting Avenger’s circuitry perfectly.”</p><p>“Well then, lets go figure out our next move, I guess.”</p><p>“Very well. But first—” She looks down.</p><p>“Huh?” I follow her gaze. “Oh.” My face reddening, I grab a sheet off the bed and wrap my lower half in it. Whoops.</p><p>-------------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>Smiling, Caster opens the door to the rest of the house and I follow her through the kitchen and into the living room. Claire and Andy are sitting on opposite couches, watching TV boredly.</p><p>Claire stands as we enter. “What is he doing out of bed?”</p><p>“Change of plans,” I say, plopping down on the couch next to Andy. Caster sits lightly on my other side.</p><p>Claire shoots a glance at Caster. “You removed it, then? I thought we had a deal.”</p><p>She shrugs. “He made a good argument.”</p><p>At least one of us thinks so. “Look, do you really think you could take down Assassin, Lancer, a crazy priest, and whatever vampire-thing Assassin’s master is with just you two? We need as many fighters as we can get, and me able to fight is going to be more useful than me bedridden.”</p><p>“And you’re alright with the consequences?”</p><p>I shrug. “I figure I’m likely screwed either way. Might as well be able to fight it.”</p><p>Andy nods. “That’s the way, man.”</p><p>Claire frowns. “I suppose I can’t argue with you. Right now, there’s not a damn thing I could do to influence you anyways.”</p><p>“What do you mean?”</p><p>Claire sighs. “You’ve got a working Grail Conduit, Will. What could I possibly do to you?”</p><p>“Yea, you’re going to have to explain that a bit better.”</p><p>“Here.” Claire reaches down. “I’ll demonstrate.”</p><p> </p><p>—Without warning, she draws back, launching a bolt of silvery light towards me. It crosses the room in an instant. Caster jumps up, beginning an incantation, but before she can do so, a dark tendril rips its way out of the ground in front of me, unfurling in a second to block the bolt before fading from existence as soon as it came.</p><p> </p><p>The room is dead quiet.</p><p> </p><p>“....Whoa.” Andy’s voice finally breaks the silence.</p><p> </p><p>“What you have,” says Claire, “is a direct link to the Grail. Or rather, you are the Grail, but Avenger’s circuitry is allowing you to tap into the mana inside of it. He’s also... protecting you, unconsciously. Those black... things, are, well, they’re you, but they’re also him. The line is rather blurry.”</p><p>“So basically, Avenger is also my servant?”</p><p>“Sort of. You have a contract with him, but it’s different. I’m not sure how to classify it, really. I doubt something exactly like this has ever occurred before...”</p><p>“Thanks. That’s all I need to know.” I settle back in my chair. “Now. We need to figure out what our next move is.”</p><p>Caster nods. “We cannot remain here much longer. I have warded this house, but they will soon be able to pinpoint Will’s location again if he remains here. We will have to stay on the move if we wish to remain undetected.”</p><p>Claire nods. “A good idea, of course. But what then? Do we attack, or do we wait for them to strike first and lay a trap? Who do we assault first?” She frowns again. “Even with Will’s new abilities, we’re still effectively outnumbered. Who knows what kind of resources this Dead Apostle has? Damn it!’ she exclaims, stamping her foot. “This would be a hell of a lot easier if we hadn’t lost...” She trails off</p><p>“Outnumbered, huh...” I think back for a second. Didn’t Avenger say something... no, he didn’t say it, but... I just kind of know it, don’t I? The knowledge is just... there, floating unbidden in the back of my mind.</p><p>Caster notices my distant expression and looks over at me. “Will? Is something wrong?”</p><p>“Hmm? No, no, that’s not it. I just... I think I might have a solution to that problem.”</p><p>Claire gives me a puzzled look. “What?”</p><p> </p><p>“Just give me a second.” I lean back in my chair and close my eyes, and th–––</p><p> </p><p>------------------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>I’m kneeling in the darkness.</p><p>Looks like it worked. I get to my feet, shrugging off the manacles bound around my wrists and ankles, pulling the collar around my neck off. They fade away as they fall, leaving me standing alone in an endless field of black.</p><p> </p><p>Now then. I need something to work with...</p><p> </p><p>I concentrate, and instantly the library appears around me again. I’m still standing in the center, in front of a table laid out with cards.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>Wait.</strong>
</p><p>Oh. You’re still here?</p><p>The voice is silent.</p><p>You were the one who suggested this in the first place, right.</p><p>
  <strong>Yes. We are still... we. I can only... help, now.</strong>
</p><p>That’s fine. So this will work, then?</p><p>
  <strong>Yes. But... costly. Takes... more energy. You will be... weaker. And... I cannot promise... their obedience.</strong>
</p><p>I see. Thanks for the heads up.</p><p> </p><p>I look down at the table in front of me. There are four cards, laid out in order: Rider, Berserker, Archer, Saber.</p><p> </p><p>A) Take Rider.<br/>B) Take Berserker.<br/>C) Take Archer.<br/>D) Take Saber.<br/>E) Take nothing, and return.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0114"><h2>114. Chapter 114</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>D) Take Saber.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>I reach down and take the card emblazoned with the knight.</p><p> </p><p>Immediately the library dissolves around me, and I am somewhere else.</p><p> </p><p>––––The ocean stretches out around me, grey waves lapping against a grey sky, the horizon obscured by fog.</p><p>There is no sound but the lapping of the waves against the wooden hull of the ship on which I stand. Long and narrow, its hull tapers off at each end, rising and forming into intricately carved heads, like serpents, their mouths grinning, filled with pointed teeth of oak. A sail rises from a mast in the center, tattered and torn with age.</p><p>I walk carefully towards the middle of the craft, the wooden deck creaking underneath me.</p><p>At the center of the deck, by the mast, a massive platform has been built, surrounded by crackling torches, chests full of gold, piles of shields, swords, spears. The platform is arrayed in thick furs and rich cloths, gold and red and purple. There is a figure laying in the center. It is perfectly still as I approach.</p><p> </p><p>I reach the edge of the platform and gaze down at the figure. At the center of all this wealth lays Saber, arrayed in armor of hammered gold, a cloak of woven gold and rich fur draped over his shoulder, his sword and shield at his side, still as if in death.</p><p>Then, without warning, his lips move.</p><p> </p><p>“—Have you come, finally? Am I to go to Valhalla with the heroes? Or have I been resigned to Hel?”</p><p> </p><p>I shake my head sadly. “Sorry. Afraid I can’t answer that one.”</p><p>Saber is silent for a moment. “Then what brings you here. This is not a land for living men.”</p><p>I let out a hollow laugh. “Neither of us quite falls under that description any more, I’m afraid.”</p><p> </p><p>Saber remains silent. His body is cold and unmoving, like a corpse—only his speech gives any impression that anything is left of the once-proud warrior.</p><p> </p><p>“Saber...” I begin again. “How would you like to... fight again?”</p><p>“To fight again... It is the wish of any warrior. But I have already fallen in battle.”</p><p>I nod. “You did. You died bravely. But we still need your sword. Your expertise. None of us are warriors, Saber... Sigurd.” I speak his name, and for the first time, a slight stir seems to pass through his lifeless body.</p><p>“You... need a warrior.”</p><p>“Yea. All of us—me, Caster, Claire. We could still use you around.”</p><p> </p><p>His lips twitch into what might be a smile. “Let it not be said that Sigurd ever abandoned his comrades. Very well, Will. You have my sword again.”</p><p> </p><p>—As he speaks those words, a shadowy, swirling haze of darkness appears underneath the prone warrior. Tendrils of black shoot out, wrapping themselves around his unresisting form and pulling him under, down into the miasma, slowly, until he is entirely consumed.</p><p> </p><p>The ship and ocean dissolve around me again, and I am standing back in the library.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>It is done.</strong>
</p><p>Good.</p><p> </p><p>I look down at the table. Three cards still remain.</p><p> </p><p>Can I take another?</p><p>
  <strong>...Yes. But we will be... even weaker. As will he.</strong>
</p><p>Right.</p><p> </p><p>What should I do?</p><p> </p><p>A) Take Rider<br/>
B) Take Berserker<br/>
C) Take Archer.<br/>
D) Take nothing and return.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Status Screen Updated!</p><p><strong>Servant Avenger</strong><br/>Integration Percentage- 19%</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0115"><h2>115. Chapter 115</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>D) Return.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>I guess we’re good for now. I close my eyes, feeling the world collapse around me as I leave myself and reenter the world...</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>--------------------------------------------</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>–––en I open them again.</p><p>“There. That ought to do it,” I say, satisfied.</p><p>The room is quiet for a moment.</p><p>“...What oughta do it?” Andy asks, confused?</p><p>“You... just closed your eyes for a second,” Claire says, looking at me skeptically.</p><p>Only a second? Damn. I don’t let on that that surprises me though. Better to surprise them.</p><p>“Just give me a second.” I get to my feet. This shouldn’t be all that hard, right? If I can go in there, I just have to figure out how to bring things back out...</p><p> </p><p>–––I concentrate. A faint reddish glow like burnt out embers begins to shine from the red markings on my body as strain inwardly. Come on now. Rise out of there. I’m your master now. Saber!</p><p> </p><p>As before, a dark haze forms around my feet, extending out before me, deepening into a swirling vortex of nightmarish black and white forms that, slowly, begins to coalesce into a humanoid shape inside. It rises slowly, as if out from the sea, darkness sloughing off it like sludge until its shape is fully visible, standing in the middle of the room.</p><p> </p><p>–––The dark figure looms in the middle of the room. His mail shirt is stained dark with rust and corrosion. His helm is a horned mass of black steel, his face obscured by metal. His gauntleted hands grasp a sword, chipped and worn, stained with old blood and dirt and rust.</p><p> </p><p>The figure turns to me with a nod of its massive head. “Thanks,” he says, his voice twisted by the helmet’s bulk. But I can recognize the voice.</p><p> </p><p>“S-S-Saber?” Claire stammers, hearing him speak. The figure turns back towards her, reaching up ponderously to his helm. He clicks some invisible clasps near the back and removes it carefully, shaking out his hair as he does so.</p><p> </p><p>–––Without a doubt, it’s Saber. His face is paler than before, his hair somewhat faded, his eyes a dusky gold, but there’s no doubt who that cocky grin belongs to.</p><p> </p><p>“Gods of Asgard, this thing is stifling,” he says, dropping it to the floor with a resounding clank. “How am I supposed to fight if I cannot even breath?”</p><p>I smile. Caster stifles a laugh. Andy and Claire are still staring in disbelief.</p><p>“Wha-what? Saber?”</p><p>“Yes, it’s me.” He laughs, a deep guffaw. “What, you think a true warrior like me would be out of this fight so quickly? That little wound was just a setback to the might of Sigurd! Hah!”</p><p>Claire stares at him in astonishment for another moment before sighing. “It’s you, alright,” she says, a look of relief on her face. “God knows I never expected to hear this again.”</p><p>“ And ’tis not the first time I’ve heard a woman say those words,” Saber says with another laugh. Andy sniggers.</p><p> </p><p>Claire turns to me. “So this is your doing, then? You can... pull servants back out of the grail?”</p><p>I shrug. “I guess so.”</p><p>“You... guess so?”</p><p>“I mean, I just did, didn’t I?”</p><p>She sighs, putting her face in her hands. “I’m surrounded by them, I swear. Listen,” she says, looking back up at me. “Next time you want to try out some crazy new thing, tell me, or Caster, alright? So you don’t blow out your circuits trying or something.”</p><p>I nod. “If you say so.”</p><p> </p><p>We settle back down in our chairs, Saber taking a seat on the floor, his new armor creaking.</p><p>“So,” says Claire, once we’ve all quieted down. “We’re now at two servants, one magi, and one... grail. Our opponents are—an unknown Lancer and his master, a member of the Burial Agency; and an Assassin who is not only not Hassan like he’s supposed to be, but has some noble phantasm that is powerful enough to break through Saber’s invulnerability.”</p><p>I nod. “Right. He’s supposed to be invulnerable everywhere except his one shoulder, right? But Assassin destroyed his whole arm.”</p><p>“Right. Which means it either has some loophole that lets it damage things that should be invulnerable, or its of such a high rank as to render its protection useless. Either way, it’s incredibly dangerous. And that’s not even counting the fact that even if he’s using that Samantha girl as a master now, his original master—or someone working for him—seems to be a Dead Apostle.”</p><p>“...Those are vampires, right?”</p><p>“Yes, Will. They’re vampires.”</p><p>“Whoa, you’ve got vampires now? I am so confused.”</p><p>“That would be a problem, Andy, if you were a part of this conversation to begin with.”</p><p>“Ouch. That stung. Really.”</p><p>“Could we please return to the issue at hand...”</p><p> </p><p>I sit back on the couch. It doesn’t look like we’re getting anywhere.</p><p> </p><p>A) “We should go after Lancer”<br/>B) “We should go after Assassin.”<br/>C) “We should lay a trap.”<br/>D) “We should wait and investigate everyone further.”<br/>E) Stay silent and see what everyone else says.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Status Screen Updated!</p><p>
  <strong> Servant Saber Alter<br/>Master- William Cooper<br/>True Name- Sigurd<br/>Sex- Male<br/>Alignment- Neutral Good</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Strength- A+<br/>Endurance- B<br/>Agility- D<br/>Mana- D<br/>Luck- C<br/>Noble Phantasm: A+</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Class Abilities-<br/>Magic Resistance: A</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Riding: C</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Skills:<br/>Currently Unknown.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Noble Phantasms:</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>The Sword of Reforged Wrath, Gram—Saber’s blade, which was said to have cut through the very anvil it was hammered upon. Unlike many Noble swords, it does not allow Saber to focus his mana through it to increase his strength, forcing the weirder to rely on his own skill to strike. However, its cutting ability is unmatched, allowing it to cleave through any physical and most magical forms, including other Noble Phantasms.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>When its true form is revealed, it appears to glow red, as the edge severs the bonds of molecules in the air.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Fafnir's Blood—Bathing in the blood of the dragon Fafnir has granted Sigurd almost total invulnerability on his entire body—except for one shoulder, on which a leaf fell. On all but that spot he is immune to any attacks below A rank, regardless of type.</strong>
</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0116"><h2>116. Chapter 116</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>C) “We should lay a trap.”</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>“What?”</p><p>“A trap.” I sit forward in my chair. “They’re all looking for me, right? And it’s not that hard for them to find me. Why don’t we use that to our advantage? Draw them somewhere where we have the upper hand?”</p><p>Claire thinks for a moment. “...It’s not a bad idea, I suppose. We do have a servant with great territory control on our side.”</p><p> </p><p>I look at Caster. “Could you use your Noble Phantasm again, if we were to draw them in?”</p><p>She nods. “Yes, but remember that Assassin witnessed me using it last time. It’s likely that he will have some sort of contingency planned to escape from it.”</p><p>“Alright. But we could probably pull it off on Lancer, right?”</p><p>“Yes, I suppose so.”</p><p> </p><p>“...What about other servants?” Claire leans forward. “You re-summoned Saber, right? Could you do it with any of the others.”</p><p>“I could. But it’ll make me and each of them weaker.”</p><p>Claire nods. “You may have limitless mana, but you’re still limited by your—or rather, Avenger’s—circuit output.”</p><p>“Right. Plus I don’t really have a command seal on Saber, now. So I don’t know if I could control any of the others if I did bring them out.”</p><p>“What if we had a way to convince them?” Caster asks, a thoughtful look on her face.</p><p>“Then yeah, it could be useful.”</p><p>“Archer would certainly be a tactical asset,” says Claire.</p><p>“And Rider may be able to convince Samantha out of... whatever it is she is doing,” replies Caster.</p><p>“I guess.” I don’t know if I like the idea of stretching myself any thinner, but they have a good point.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, I guess it’s up to you, Will,” Claire says, sighing. “Since it’s your powers and all. What do you want to do?”</p><p> </p><p>A) Recruit Archer<br/>B) Recruit Rider<br/>C) Stay as you are for now.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0117"><h2>117. Chapter 117</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>C) Stay as you are.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>I shake my head. “We’ll stick with this for now, then. I don’t want to take any risks.”</p><p>“Alright.” Claire nods. “We can still keep an eye out for any way to gain leverage over the others.”</p><p>“Yeah. I don’t know what happened to Archer’s master, but if we find him, maybe we could convince him to help.”</p><p>“You think?” Claire gives me an odd look.</p><p>I nod. “Yeah. I think he would.”</p><p>“And Samantha is currently working with Assassin,” adds Caster. “Perhaps Rider would object. Although I doubt he would be very happy about working with us...”</p><p> </p><p>“Well then!” Claire claps her hands. “We’ve got this much, at least. The four of us should be enough to set up a trap, provided we can manage to only catch one at a time. First of all, though,” she says, getting to her feet, “we need to move. It won’t be long before they’ll be able to track Will here.”</p><p>“You mean the five of us, right?” Andy says, getting to his feet.</p><p>“...No, I definitely meant four. We can’t have any dead weight slowing us down.”</p><p>“Hey now,” I object. “We can’t just leave him here.”</p><p>“I am afraid I must agree,” says Caster with a sigh. “They will come here eventually to look for Will, and if Andy remains he will surely be killed—probably tortured first, for information.”</p><p>“Yeah, see, I—wait what? Then you have to take me with you!”</p><p>Claire sighs. “Fine. But try to stay out of everyone’s way.”</p><p> </p><p>“So,” she says, turning to me. “We need a new base of operations, for the time being. Where do you want to go?”</p><p> </p><p>A) Somewhere on campus.<br/>B) The woods outside of town/the Park.<br/>C) Somewhere in the Industrial District.<br/>D) Somewhere in the Commercial District.<br/>E) My old apartment.<br/>F) Archer's former hideout.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0118"><h2>118. Chapter 118</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>F) Archer’s old Hideout.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Now there’s an idea.</p><p>“Caster, where’d you put my clothes?”</p><p>“Hmm? They are—or rather, what is left of them are in the corner over there.”</p><p>“Good.” I walk over and begin to fish around inside them. ...She’s right, they’ve been torn totally to shreds. Those were some nice jeans too...</p><p>“Here we are.” I pull my wallet out. Thankfully it’s in one piece. From inside I draw out a battered looking business card.</p><p> </p><p>“How about here?” I say, holding it up for the rest to see.</p><p>“...Here?” Claire looks puzzled for a second before realization dawns on her face. “Wait, you want to go there?”</p><p>“Why not? It’s probably the most secure place in town, and without Archer around there’s a fair chance it’s abandoned. And who knows what kind of stuff he left behind?”</p><p>“...That is not a bad idea,” Caster says, thinking. “But we must be careful. We cannot be completely sure that the place is abandoned, after all. Remember that his former Master may still be around.”</p><p>“Right. But still, I think it’s worth checking out.”</p><p> </p><p>Claire sighs. “I guess it’s as good a start as any. Tell you what then. It’s—” she looks at her watch “—five thirty pm. I’ll take Saber with me and go get a few things from my house. You and Caster go scout the place out, make sure its empty. If it is, let us know the usual way and we’ll meet you there.”</p><p>I nod. “Alright.”</p><p>“What about me?” Andy pipes up.</p><p>Claire groans. “Just... go waste time somewhere. Will can call you later or something.”</p><p>“Can do. Wasting time’s never been a problem for me.”</p><p> </p><p>“Alright.” I turn back to look at my pile of shredded clothing. “Now I just need to find some pants and we can get going.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>----------------------------------------</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>After borrowing some ill-fitting clothes from Andy we all go our separate ways. Caster and I head downtown first, with the intent of buying me some clothes that actually fit. After getting a few new pairs of clothes and a new jacket—considering how many I’ve had destroyed or had to abandon in the past few days—we head towards the outside of town and the former location of Yassa Industries, Incorporated.</p><p> </p><p>We approach the compound from the road—thank god there was a bus route that came out here, or this would have taken a while to get to. It’s a good sized area, surrounded by a high chain-link fence topped with razor wire, containing a massive warehouse, a series of small, low barrack-like buildings, and a larger building, connected to the warehouse by a hallway, that looks like some kind of office or command building. Its already dark by now, and light flurries are beginning to dust the ground, twinkling through the floodlights which illuminate the compound. Other than them, though, the place appears to be completely deserted.</p><p> </p><p>As we near the front gate, Caster pauses. “...I detect no Servants in the area,” she says, “nor ordinary humans. However, there seems to be some form of magical interference within the confines of the fence, so I cannot be completely certain. How should we approach?” she asks.</p><p> </p><p>A) Enter through the front gate.<br/>B) Go over the fence.<br/>C) Circle around and look for a back entrance.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0119"><h2>119. Chapter 119</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>C) Circle around and look for a back entrance.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>We follow the fence around the compound, keeping under the cover of the trees surrounding it. The air is still and silent, the only sound our feet crunching quietly in the underbrush.</p><p>Finally, after a few minutes walk, we reach another much smaller gate in the fence. There’s no unmanned guardpost here, just a chain lock that seems like it rusted shut a long time ago.</p><p>“You wish to enter here?” Caster asks.</p><p>I nod. She steps in front of me and takes the chain in her hand, muttering something, and the chain dissolves completely into rust. She pushes the gate open, and I follow her inside.</p><p>We’re standing in the back of the compound, now. The back end of the large warehouse-like building is only thirty-some feet in front of us, blocking the central field area from view.</p><p>“Can you sense anything else yet?” I ask Caster.</p><p>She shakes her head. “No. There is still some form of interference... it is weak, though. I could probably break it, but if it is being monitored it would give away our presence immediately.”</p><p>I nod. Now what?</p><p> </p><p>A) Have Caster break the interference.<br/>B) Enter the Warehouse.<br/>C) Enter the Barracks.<br/>D) Enter the Office/Headquarters.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0120"><h2>120. Chapter 120</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>A) Break the interference.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>“Just break it,” I say. “I’m tired of sneaking around.”</p><p>Caster nods, closing her eyes and mumbling something quickly. The air around us shimmers for a moment, then—</p><p> </p><p>A clamor fills the air—sirens appear to be going off all over the compound, filling the air with sound. More spotlights snap on all around, blinding me momentarily.</p><p>...And then, well, nothing. The alarms keep flashing, sending their wail towards the dark heavens, but it seems as if there is no-one left to respond to them.</p><p>Caster cringes at the sound. “It appears to be an automated response!” she says, loud enough to be heard over the din. “We may want to shut it off!”</p><p>I nod. “Is there anyone here?”</p><p>“I can sense life signs in the main building! All ordinary humans! Other than that, the whole compound appears to be empty!”</p><p>Now what?</p><p> </p><p>A) Enter the Warehouse<br/>B) Enter the Barracks.<br/>C) Enter the Office/Headquarters.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0121"><h2>121. Chapter 121</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>C) Enter the Office/Headquarters</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>“Lets go!” I yell, motioning towards the main building. “See if we can’t turn this thing off!”</p><p>She nods and follows me towards the building’s back entrance. The door is locked, obviously, but a quick gesture by Caster opens it and we make our way inside.</p><p>The sound of klaxons continues inside the building, although the buzzers in here aren’t as deafening outside.. We are standing at the back end of what appears to be a service hallway, all cinderblock and tile, the ceiling lined with fluorescent lights, shining only dimly, as if to indicate the severity of the situation.</p><p>“There is a stairwell ahead,” says Caster, her eyes closed. “It should take us up to the security controls.”</p><p>We dash down the hallway and up several flights of stairs. Caster points when we reach the correct floor. We exit quickly and make our way down the hallway to a heavy door labeled “Security.” Caster’s magic quickly bypasses its lock, and I wrench open the door open—</p><p> </p><p>A flash of light. A sharp report sounds in front of me. Immediately my vision is obstructed by a wall of black and red that shoots out from the floor before me. It puckers in places before sliding back into my shadow as quickly as it came, leaving bits of buckshot tinkling to the floor in front of me.</p><p> </p><p>After I recover from the surprise, I look into the room. In the corner, behind a desk, crouches a small figure, clutching at what appears to be a very high-tech shotgun and staring towards me, wide-eyed, his eyes filled with fear and anticipation and hatred.</p><p>Caster begins to move behind me, but I hold up an arm to stop her. I—</p><p> </p><p>A) Approach him—doesn't look like there's anything he can do to me. Better assert our dominance now.<br/>B) Ignore him and turn off the alarm first.<br/>C) Try to talk to him from here—I don't think he can hurt me, but it would be a show of good faith.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0122"><h2>122. Chapter 122</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>C) Try to talk to him from here.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>I motion to Caster behind my back. She nods, getting the idea, and silently moves over toward a console in the other corner of the room. After a moment, the clamor of the alarm ceases. The hallway lights go out completely, leaving the only light the single industrial fixture on the ceiling of this security room.</p><p> </p><p>“...You’re Jack, right?” I say, trying to sound nonchalant, towards the cowering figure behind the desk.</p><p>The boy simply scowls at me, silently. We stare at each other a moment longer.</p><p>“Why don’t you put that thing down, Jack?” I say slowly. “We’re not here to hurt you.”</p><p>No response.</p><p>“Come on, Jack. Maybe we can help you.”</p><p>In response, I see him tighten his grip on the weapon, raising it slightly towards me.</p><p>I shake my head. “Come on now. You saw what happened last time you tried that.”</p><p>He doesn’t move. It looks like he’s either too stubborn or too scared to yield an inch.</p><p>Caster sighs impatiently from the corner. Jack twitches at the sound, but stays locked on to me.</p><p> </p><p>I sigh myself. “Alright, kid. What do you want from us, then?”</p><p>“—Get out.”</p><p>His voice emerges, shaky but resolute.</p><p>“You want us to leave?”</p><p>“Yes. Leave us alone.”</p><p>“Hey, we didn’t think you all would still be here—”</p><p>“Then why did you come here?”</p><p>Hm. He’s got me there. I shrug. “I won’t lie. We wanted to use this place as a base of operations, since we figured it would be empty—”</p><p> </p><p>A burst of light emerges from the muzzle of the shotgun, and again a dark shape shoots out and shields me from it.</p><p>“Get out,” he says again. It appears I hit a sore spot with that last one.</p><p>I look at Caster, who shrugs at me.</p><p>How do we reason with this kid? It seems, from his reaction now and from seeing them before that he was... attached to Archer, so the fact that we helped do him in probably doesn’t help. The only bargaining chip we might have would be the fact that I still technically have Archer, right?</p><p>...On the other hand, even if we don’t have any way to bargain with him, he really isn’t in any position to bargain with us, either. Without a servant, there’s not much he can do.</p><p>What now?</p><p> </p><p>A) Keep trying to talk him down.<br/>B) Threaten him.<br/>C) Leave him alone and keep searching the facility.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0123"><h2>123. Chapter 123</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>A) Try to talk him down.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>...I know that I really have no reason to mess with this kid, but... I kind of feel sorry for him.</p><p>I sigh, dropping my arms. “Look, kid. Relax. If we wanted to do anything to you, we would have done it already.”</p><p>“I don’t believe you.”</p><p>“Really? You saw what good that gun did. And I have a Servant. Do you see either of us trying to hurt you? We’re not your enemies anymore.”</p><p>Jack stares at me for another moment, but I can see his death-grip on the shotgun beginning to relax. “I don’t trust you.”</p><p>“I don’t expect you to, at least not completely. But we haven’t done anything to you yet, and you can’t do anything to us, either. And I don’t like talking to people with guns pointed at my face.”</p><p> </p><p>Finally, after a moment of thought, Jack lowers his rifle. I relax as well. “See? We just want to talk, now that we know you’re still here.”</p><p>Jack doesn’t come around the desk—instead, he plops down in the chair behind it. He’s still got the rifle in his hand, but at least it’s not pointed at me anymore. “Talk? You broke in.”</p><p>I frown. “Like I said, we didn’t know you we’re still here. Is your sister here as well?”</p><p> </p><p>–––He stiffens for a moment. “How do you know about her?”</p><p> </p><p>Crap. “...That’s not important. Is she? This probably isn’t a safe place for the two of you right now.”</p><p>“Safe as anywhere else. Not a Master anymore.”</p><p>“True. But someone else could have the same idea we did. Someone less... friendly.”</p><p>He shrugs. “Nothing to find here.”</p><p>“What about those guns Archer had?”</p><p>He shakes his head. “Don’t work anymore. Not without him.”</p><p> </p><p>Caster nods. “I thought so. Their function must have been linked to some Noble Phantasm of his... I would need to see them to make sure.”</p><p>“So we’d need Archer to use them, the—”</p><p>“Archer’s dead.” Jack glares across the desk at me again.</p><p> </p><p>Hm. It seems coming here was a waste of time, then. We can’t use it as a staging ground unless we get rid of Jack and Anne (I’m not about to bring a fight to a bunch of children) and Archer’s guns are useless... unless I can bring out Archer to use them.</p><p>I check my watch. Saber and Claire should be here in an hour or so.</p><p><em>"Caster? What do you think?"</em> I ask silently.</p><p><em>"It is your decision,"</em> she replies. <em>"Summoning another servant is risky, but the addition of Archer’s armory could be extremely useful... I understand your hesitation to involve the children, but please remember that they were your opponents only a short while ago. Do not trust them completely."</em></p><p>I nod. For now, we’ll—</p><p> </p><p>A) Tell Jack about Archer. Maybe if we can get him on our side, we can get Archer to obey us.<br/>B) Convince Jack and Anne to leave the base. We can at least use it as a secure staging ground that way.<br/>C) Leave Jack and Anne alone. We’ll find a new place to work out of.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0124"><h2>124. Chapter 124</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>A) Tell Jack about Archer. Maybe if we can get him on our side, we can get Archer to obey us.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>“...Not necessarily,” I reply to Jack.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“How much do you know about the Grail War, Jack?”</p><p>“Enough. The last Servant and Master pair standing gets a wish.”</p><p>I shake my head. “There’s more to it than that, kid. You see this?” I hold up my arm, revealing the strange red patterns which cover them. He looks taken aback for a second. “I’m not just a competitor. Not that there was really much of a competition to begin with.”</p><p>“...What do you mean?”</p><p>“This will take a while to explain...”</p><p> </p><p>I go over what I know about the Heaven’s Feel ritual and the Compact. He listens intently, that same sort of blank expression on his face. Caster gives me a disapproving look, but stays silent.</p><p> </p><p>“So,” he says when I finish, “you have all those servants... inside of you?”</p><p>“Sort of. Even Archer.”</p><p>A look of hope flashes over his face for a moment, before reverting back to his usual half-scowl. “You’re lying.”</p><p>“No, I’m not. He was defeated, so he returned to the Grail. Even that Chairman guy told you that, right?”</p><p>He nods.</p><p>“And I’m the Lesser Grail. It makes sense. I can even summon any Servant back, but...”</p><p>“But?”</p><p>“Well, I don’t get a command spell over them, see? They can’t hurt me, but I’ve got no way of telling them what to do, unless they want to listen.”</p><p>Jack is quiet.</p><p>“...Look, I’ll be frank with you. I can summon Archer back. Do you want that?”</p><p>Silence.</p><p>“I’m sorry that you can’t get whatever it was you wanted to wish for, but right now there are larger things at stake than just a wish. We need all the help we can get. Archer would be a lot of help, but... we need you to do that. To convince him to help us. Can you do that? Ally with us?</p><p>Jack stares down at the desk in front of him. I stay quiet for the moment.</p><p> </p><p>“...Let me think.” He says, finally, looking back up at me.</p><p>“Huh?”</p><p>“Let me think about it.” He hops up out of the chair and walks past me over towards the door.</p><p>“Umm... sure, I guess. Oh, but Claire and Saber—the two we’ve been working with—are going to be here soon. We’ll be meeting out front. Can you meet us out there with your decision in, say, an hour?”</p><p>Jack nods before passing by me and heading down the hallway.</p><p> </p><p>“...What a strange child,” Caster says, after he rounds a corner and vanishes.</p><p>“Yeah. Can’t tell what he’s thinking at all.”</p><p>So, we’ve got an hour to kill, I guess. Now what?</p><p> </p><p>A) Investigate the other buildings in the compound.<br/>B) Investigate more of this building.<br/>C) Kill time outside until Claire and Saber arrive.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0125"><h2>125. Chapter 125</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>A) Investigate the other buildings in the compound.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Caster and I leave the main building the way we came and re-enter the compound. It’s snowing harder now—our footprints from before are already obscured by the falling snow.</p><p>We trudge through it around the side of the building, and the big warehouse-building and barracks come into view.</p><p> </p><p>I step forward to walk out into the lighted clearing towards the barracks, when Caster grabs my arm suddenly. <em>"Will,"</em> she says in my head. <em>"Look."</em></p><p>I look out over the expanse of new, unbroken snow, shining softly in the spotlights above.</p><p>–––Except it’s not, is it?</p><p>There’s a line of footprints running across them, leading from the entrance of the compound towards the front door of the warehouse.</p><p>
  <em>"Impossible! I sensed no other intruders! How could someone—"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Don’t worry about it. Someone did, at any rate."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"I—no, this is not right. There is someone there... how did I not notice?"</em>
</p><p>I look at her, confused. <em>"Something wrong?"</em></p><p>
  <em>"No, I— never mind. Whoever is there has some form of magical interference of their own. As we have already encountered others with similar skill, this should not come as a surprise, I suppose."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"I guess. Now what do we do about it?"</em>
</p><p> </p><p>A) Confront them head-on<br/>B) Sneak around and see who it is.<br/>C) Stay away and wait for Claire and Saber to arrive.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0126"><h2>126. Chapter 126</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>B) Sneak around and investigate</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>So someone wants to sneak around on us, huh? Well two can play at that game.</p><p>
  <em>"Caster. The usual. Let's see who had the same idea we did."</em>
</p><p>Caster nods, mumbling something, and the air around us takes on a familiar hazy quality. Shrouded in silence, a small haze amongst the falling snow, we sneak towards the warehouse.</p><p> </p><p>---I catch my breath as we enter.</p><p> </p><p>The air inside the cavernous building is dry and stale. The ceiling arches far above a massive open room. The floor is... covered by lines of vehicles. Armoured trucks, APCs, and crates labeled with stenciled military terminology line the concrete floor.</p><p>
  <em>"Good lord... there's enough hardware here for a small country!"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"It seems Archer had grand schemes in mind... Be on your guard. The intruders are up ahead."</em>
</p><p> </p><p>We weave carefully amongst the stacked crates and vehicles until we reach the rear corner of the expansive building.</p><p> </p><p>---I should have known. Roaming through the rows, beady eyes darting around fiercely, is the wide, squat figure of Father Giovanni.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"Be careful. Lancer is certainly somewhere nearby. I cannot pinpoint him... why can't I sense him properly? This does not make any sense..."</em>
</p><p> </p><p>WIthout warning, Giovanni's head swings around towards us. I catch my breath, as for a moment he appears to stare right at me, but they are unfocused, staring past where we stand. He appears to... sniff the air for a moment, and then, suddenly, he speaks.</p><p> </p><p>"---I can smell the taint on you, Anathema. Show yourself."</p><p> </p><p>...Crap. I guess my grail-stuff is starting to seep even through Caster's illusions. Caster looks at me questioningly. Giovanni's eyes continue to dart around, as if searching for more signs of my presence. It seems he doesn't know exactly where I am, only that I am nearby.</p><p>We need to---</p><p> </p><p>A) Reveal ourselves. No sense it putting it off.<br/>B) Try to sneak closer and lay in a deathblow. It's too late to play fair anymore.<br/>C) Remain hidden and observe.<br/>D) Leave and seal off the building until Claire and Saber get here.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0127"><h2>127. Chapter 127</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>D) Leave and seal off the building</strong>
</p><p> </p><p><em>"Caster,"</em> I say silently. <em>"We're leaving. Seal the entrances behind us. If we can hold him here until the other two arrive, this will be an easy win."</em></p><p>Caster nods, and, silently as before we weave our way back out of the building.</p><p>We exit the massive front door, still slightly ajar. After we pass through, Caster turns, and, laying her hand softly against the door, speaks a few quick, indecipherable phrases. The door swings ponderously shut of its own accord, and, after a moment, the entire building is engulfed in a slowly spreading pattern of light that fades as soon as it appears.</p><p>As the final symbols fade, she turns back to me, the shimmery haze around us dropping. "It is finished," she says. "Now we simply must—"</p><p> </p><p>–––A tearing sound, like a hot shear through metal, screeches through the air.</p><p> </p><p>We both whirl to face the building. A sharp point, glowing brighter than the shining interlocking symbols trying to contain it, is piercing its way through the plate-steel of the warehouse doors. Caster begins to speak, trying to repair the damage done, but it is already too late. The barrier shatters, dissolving into a million motes of light that drift away as the hulking door is shorn from its hinges, swinging ponderously towards us—</p><p>Caster speaks a word, and the door is hit with a wall of force, sending it flying away towards the compound fence, where it lands with a deafening clang of metal on concrete as we are given a glimpse of our opponent.</p><p> </p><p>Lancer stands, framed in the giant empty doorframe. His Lance is held forward in his hands. Red runs in streams down its haft, bathing his hands and pooling at his sandaled feet. The spear-point has been uncovered, its cloth discarded, and the tip burns with a light that seems to sear my eyes as I stare into it. Its a paralyzing glow, and something inside of me recoils instinctively from it.</p><p> </p><p>–––That weapon is death for those like me, it says.</p><p> </p><p>A blur. Dark tendrils lash out instinctively, snagging a cluster of those strange, red-hilted blades out of the air before me. Giovanni drops out of the darkness beside Lancer in a movement far too fast for a man of his stature. His face twisted in a malicious smile unfitting for a man wearing the robes of the clergy.</p><p>"You have revealed yourself? Good. May your soul find rest as your taint is cleansed from this world. Lancer. Go."</p><p> </p><p>–––A rush of wind. Time seems to slow down as Lancer springs forward at a speed faster than any human could possibly follow. But, I guess I don’t count as ‘any human’ anymore, as I can feel his attack coming towards me, giving me just enough time to react—</p><p> </p><p>A) Block it!<br/>B) Parry it!<br/>C) Dodge it!</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0128"><h2>128. Chapter 128</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>B) Parry</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>I react instinctively. In an instant the blade extends in my hand. As the lance reaches me I sidestep, a practiced motion, turning the length of the blade along the spear-head, forcing it downwards towards the ground.</p><p> </p><p>–––Riposte.</p><p> </p><p>I turn my body as I sidestep, watching Lancer stumble forward, sliding my blade up and over the haft of the lance towards his exposed flank—</p><p>But I’m not quite fast enough. Lancer pushes on past me, and my sword slices only empty air.</p><p> </p><p>I’m left standing, Lancer a few paces away to one side, Caster and the Father watching in disbelief. The attack only lasted a moment, but in that instant so much took place it leaves my mind reeling...</p><p>No. Don’t think about that. Let go. Let whatever it is that’s guiding my hand keep guiding it—</p><p> </p><p>Behind me, I hear Caster yell. A barrier springs to life with a flash nearby, and with a clang another group of those strange swords collide with it. It seems like Giovanni isn’t going to let up either. I—</p><p> </p><p>A) Tell Caster to take on Giovanni while I keep Lancer at bay!<br/>B) Tell Caster keep Lancer at bay while I take on Giovanni!<br/>C) Try to call back Saber!</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0129"><h2>129. Chapter 129</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>C) Try to Call Back Saber!</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>This isn’t a fair fight. Sure, it's two on two, but until we know exactly what that spear can do we’re at a huge disadvantage.</p><p> </p><p>So we need an advantage!</p><p> </p><p>“Caster! Take care of the priest!” I yell, breaking into a run towards the command building. I’m fast, covering the distance in almost a half second, but Lancer is faster, lunging forward with lance outstretched towards my unprotected flank.</p><p>I don’t count on my black shield to stop me. I push off with my foot, sending myself hurtling up and to the right, the Lance passing underneath me as I cross over his head. He turns, crouches, ready to follow—</p><p> </p><p>–––––But it’s already too late.</p><p> </p><p>A mass of tendrils breaks its way from the black miasma beneath him, wrapping themselves around his arms, legs, torso, neck, anywhere they can grab a hold of. He flails, attempting to dislodge them, hacking at them with his glowing lance, and they bubble and burn, sloughing off like black pitch to the ground. I grit my teeth as I land, feeling a twinge of burning pain every time he slashes another, but I hold my ground. This won’t hold him forever, but it gives me the time I need—</p><p> </p><p>–––––”Saber. Finish this.”</p><p> </p><p>My shadow lengthens. Deepens. A tall dark shape rises from within it to stand before me.</p><p> </p><p>“And so, I told him, if ye’ want to—Wha’? Will? What did.... oh. Right.” Saber, clad in his black armor, turns to see the struggling Lancer. “Good job with that one. Sure you need my help?”</p><p>“Yea. Sorry. I can’t touch that lance of his.” I wince as he cuts another tendril, another appearing to take it’s place almost instantly.</p><p>“Ah, holy weaponry. Makes sense.” He draws his sword. “Alright then.” He gives me a mocking smile. “Let your big bro Saber take care of this one.”</p><p> </p><p>–––––He charges in an instant, bringing his sword in a beautiful arc that glows red in the darkness as its passage cuts the air itself. He could block it. That lance of his is powerful. He’s fast enough. ––But not now. The bearer of the holiest lance, held back by threads of shadow.</p><p> </p><p>That’s all it takes. A single, clean cut. A legionnaire's helm falls into the snow with a dulled thud. The body pitches forward, the lance landing harmlessly in the snow nearby. He begins to evaporate into dust almost immediately, leaving nothing behind.</p><p> </p><p>I tense, waiting for the inevitable pain, but it doesn’t come. Saber eyes me curiously. I shrug. “I guess it’s not doing that any more.”</p><p>“Probably a good thing. Probably—”</p><p> </p><p>–––A flash of light erupts from over near the warehouse.</p><p> </p><p>“Shit! Caster!” I sprint back over towards it, Saber following close on my heels.</p><p>Beside the warehouse, the snow has been stripped away, the remaining drifts around it glittering in the light refracted from the massive magic circle tracing its way across the empty space. In the middle is Giovanni, hanging suspended in mid-air, shackles of glowing light holding him in position. Caster is standing nearby, tracing something on the sigil below her.</p><p>“Caster!” I run over to her.</p><p>“Will!” She looks up from her work, a look of relief on her face. “Oh gods. You are unhurt?”</p><p>“Yeah. We finished off Lancer.”</p><p>She notices Saber behind me. If this surprises her, she doesn’t let it show on her face. “Impressive. I was about to finish with this... so-called priest, but I suppose that is no longer as pressing a concern, if Lancer is gone.” She gestures towards him dismissively. “A tenacious man. I had to restrain him just to stop him hopping around like a madman. I just do not understand such fanaticism.</p><p> </p><p>I look up towards him. Despite hanging, held in place in the air by the arms and legs, he seems remarkable impassive. Only his piggy little eyes show any life, burning with a hatred that would bother me if I hadn’t just handily beaten his Servant.</p><p>“Well. What do we do with him now?”</p><p>A) Kill him. It’s unfortunate, but we can’t risk letting him go.<br/>
B) Let him go. He’s dangerous, but without a servant there’s nothing he can do to us.<br/>
C) Wait for Claire to get here and question him. We might be able to get some information out of him.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Status Screen Updated!</p><p><strong>Servant Avenger</strong><br/>Integration Percentage - 23%</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>Servant Lancer DEFEATED</strong>
</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0130"><h2>130. Chapter 130</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>C) Wait and question him.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>“...How long can you keep him here?”</p><p>Caster scoffs. “Indefinitely, of course. Although I would prefer to dispatch him quickly.”</p><p>“Then let's wait a little while. We might be able to get some information out of him---”</p><p>I look up at the captured priest. He stares at me woodenly.</p><p>“---once Claire gets here, at least. She can use that interrogation spell again while you keep him held still.”</p><p>Caster frowns. “It is likely that he is conditioned against mental interference... but I suppose it cannot hurt to try. We will wait and see, then.”</p><p> </p><p>Alright. I guess I should send Saber back to Claire-- wait, where did he go? He was behind us a moment ago---</p><p>“---Will. Come over here a moment.”</p><p>I hear Saber's voice call from around the corner of the warehouse. Caster and I follow it around to where Lancer fell.</p><p> </p><p>---The hollow of snow where his body fell has grown since then. A spreading circle of red liquid stains the white surrounding it. In its center lies the fallen lance.</p><p> </p><p>“...I thought you said you defeated Lancer?”</p><p>“We did...”</p><p>“How do you know?”</p><p>I shrug. “I just... know. The only remaining official servants are you and Assasin. It must be part of the whole grail thing. Lancer is definitely gone.”</p><p>I step over and reach down towards it.”But why the hell is this thing still here---”</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>*THUMP*</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>---The pain knocks me off my feet.</p><p>“Will!” Caster rushes over to me. The skin on my fingers where they touched the lance's haft is burnt, blistering as if they had been held against something white hot.</p><p>“Gahg--” She cups my hands in hers and mumbles something and the pain subsides. “What the hell... was that,” I say, clenching my teeth as the blisters slowly mend themselves.</p><p>“It's a holy weapon,” says Saber, bending over to inspect it without touching it. “I don't know why it's still here, but it seems to be powerful enough to stop a being such as yourself from touching it.”</p><p>“You could have said that before I touched it...” I say, standing and wiping the snow from my pants and jacket.</p><p> </p><p>A) Tell Saber to take it.<br/>B) Tell Caster to take it.<br/>C) Leave it there for now.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0131"><h2>131. Chapter 131</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>C) Leave it there for now.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>I shake my head. “Whatever. Just leave it there for now, it’s not worth the risk.”</p><p>Caster nods. “I understand. I shall ward it to ensure no-one approaches it without our knowledge.”</p><p> </p><p>She does so with a quick wave of her hand and we trudge back through the snow towards where Father Giovanni is still bound. As we do so–––</p><p> </p><p>“Hey! Someone let me in! Hello! I know you’re in there!”</p><p> </p><p>––––A familiar voice calls out from the front gate.</p><p> </p><p>I look over at Caster. She nods, laughing. “Should we let her in?”</p><p>“I guess...” I say, groaning. “I’m going to get shit for this, aren’t I...</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“Well? I had to walk the rest of the way here. Alone. In the snow. You could have at least warned me! Or sent him back to get me or something!”</p><p> </p><p>–––Yep, I was right.</p><p> </p><p>Apparently, Claire and Saber where on their way here when I called Saber away. Rather than take the bus, Claire had opted to ride on Saber’s shoulders—a quick, direct way, but not so comfortable when your ride disappears as you’re traveling through the forest at fifty miles an hour. Luckily, she escaped with only minor cuts and bruises—but the biggest bruise seemed to be on her ego...</p><p> </p><p>Saber and I stand and take her reprimanding for a few minutes, standing shivering slightly in the snow in beat up wet clothes, bits of twig still stuck in her hair. Saber has a slightly bemused expression on his face, and I can tell that Caster is stifling laughter, although Claire is deliberately ignoring it.</p><p> </p><p>“Sorry,” I say, finally. “It was a split second decision. I didn’t even know I could do that. And I don’t think I can send him places, only recall him to me.”</p><p>She gives a resigned sigh. “I guess you’re probably right. Still...” She rubs a bruise on her thigh. “Give some warning from now on, alright? Anyways, can we get inside? I’m freezing. And I could use an explanation of what’s going on as well.”</p><p> </p><p>A) Go inside and explain the situation to her. We should be meeting up with Jack soon anyways.<br/>B) Interrogate Giovanni first. We can’t just leave him hanging there all night.<br/>C) Do something with that Lance first. Maybe Claire knows something we can do.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0132"><h2>132. Chapter 132</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>B) Deal with Giovanni first.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Caster glances towards Claire and mumbles something, and with a sucking sounds the water in her clothes is removed and falls in small droplets to the snow around her. “Is that better?” She asks, an amused look on her face as Claire shoots her a glare.</p><p>“Let's focus here,” I say with a sigh, thinking about the situation. “...Well, we can't just leave that guy hanging there all night. Caster, I don't suppose you could shove him into Avalon for the time being?”</p><p>“...Yes, I suppose so. He is magically restrained, after all, so he can offer no resistance. But would it not be simpler to just kill him?”</p><p>I shake my head. “I want to be able to question him later.”</p><p>She nods. “I understand. Then let us not waste any more time here.”</p><p> </p><p>The four of us walk back over towards where Giovanni still hangs. Not that he could do anything else, I guess.</p><p>Caster steps to the edge of the circle. “Pardon me, Father,” she says with mock sweetness, her staff appearing in her hand with a flash, “But I am afraid I'll have to detain you as my guest for the time being. I hope you understand.” She begins reciting the chant under her breath. As she finishes, the whole sigil flashes with an intense light before beginning to fade, taking Giovanni with it. He doesn't struggle as his form turns translucent, and I swear I can see the rolling golden fields of Avalon through him before he disappears altogether, leaving nothing but a melted circle in the snow.</p><p>When it's done, Caster turns back to us, her staff again vanishing. “There. What is our next move, then?”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, first of all, we---”</p><p> </p><p>---I feel a vibration from my pocket. I start, for a moment wondering what it could be, and then laugh at myself for my uncertainty. It feels like it's been forever, I think, as I pull my cell phone out of my pocket, since someone called me normally.</p><p> </p><p>I look at the caller ID. It's Andy. ...Wasn't he supposed to be with Claire?</p><p> </p><p>“Hey.”</p><p>“Hey. Uhh... could you let me in? It's freezing out here.”</p><p>“How did you---”</p><p>“The bus, man. You know how long it takes to get a bus out here? They only run like every three hours! That bitch ditched me!”</p><p>I glance over towards Claire. She shrugs.</p><p>“Alright, I'm coming to let you in. Just wait...”</p><p> </p><p>--------------------------------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>The group, such as it is, is finally back together, I think, as I open the front gate to let Andy into the compound. He seems to be in decent spirits, despite his long wait in the cold, so the group of us begin to walk back towards the main building, Caster and I explaining what we found here to the new arrivals.</p><p>We pass by the fallen lance as we go, and I point it out to Claire and Andy, explaining how if fell after Lancer died.</p><p>“What?” Claire stops suddenly, and bends over to study it, being careful not to touch it. “Could it...well, given the church's stores of holy relics, it's certainly possible. That would mean...” She looks back up towards me. “This could actually be a surviving noble phantasm.”</p><p>“Surviving?”</p><p>“Noble phantasms aren't exactly something that are just lying around anymore. Most of them were lost or destroyed ages ago. The Grail simply recreates them along with their owners. This, though... it must be. The church must have saved this relic, and used it as the base to summon the servant.</p><p>“Summoning a servant using its noble phantasm... why in the world would they do that? It would only be effective if the weapon was more famous than it's wielder... but what hero would the church keep?”</p><p> </p><p>“This is one of those noble phantathingys?” Andy says, squatting down next to Claire. “It just looks like a spear to me---”</p><p> </p><p>No-one realizes what's happening until his hands have already reached the lance's haft. Claire and I both start to shout, grabbing at him, but it's already too late. His hand closes around it, and</p><p> </p><p>“---although the blood thing is kind of freaky. What?”</p><p> </p><p>He looks, puzzled, at our astonished faces as he stands, holding the lance nonchalantly in one hand.</p><p> </p><p>I let out a sigh of relief.</p><p> </p><p>“What... the hell... do you think you're doing!” Claire explodes on him.</p><p>“What? You said it was important, I figured you didn't want to leave it just laying there like that.”</p><p>She puts her face in her hands. “Why couldn't we have just left him outside?”</p><p> </p><p>I laugh. “He has a point, you know. And it's good that at least one of us can touch it safely now.”</p><p>“What?” He looks at me, swinging the spear point around, and I cringe instinctively.</p><p>“I can't even get near that thing. Almost burned my hands off when I tried to touch it.”</p><p>“Whoa.”</p><p>“Yea, so keep it away from me.”</p><p> </p><p>With the Lance and Giovanni taken care of, we decide to retire to the warmth of the main building. Since the alarms are gone and its occupants expect us, we go in through the front door.</p><p>Although the building’s exterior was rather utilitarian, the entryway has obviously been remodeled recently, looking for all the world like an expensive corporate lobby. Which, judging by the large Yassa Industries logo above the front desk, I suppose it is. It’s also completely deserted. Our footsteps echo off the polished marble floor.</p><p> </p><p>“Sooo... what now?” Andy says, as we stop before the bare front desk.</p><p>“I... dunno,” I say, looking around. There’s a few doorways back behind it, but since we’re on the other side of the building I don’t really know where any of them go.</p><p>Claire bends over the desk, inspecting it. “There’s got to be some kind of buzzer or something... There!” She reaches underneath the front of the desk and presses some hidden button.</p><p> </p><p>There is indeed a buzz. But not much else.</p><p> </p><p>“Damn. I was hoping—”</p><p>“Take the door to the left,” a voice says suddenly, coming out of a speaker somewhere on the desk. “Take the stairs up two floors.”</p><p> </p><p>We turn in unison towards the door as a soft click echoes through the open room.</p><p>“...Shall we?” Caster says, after a moment of silence, and proceeds towards it. We follow close behind her, Andy a ways behind us as he awkwardly carries the Lance over his head, trying not to accidentally touch anyone or get caught in the doorframe.</p><p> </p><p>We emerge from the stairwell into a well-lit hallway. Like the lobby, it’s obviously been remodeled from its original state, but this one has a distinctly... home-y look to it. The floor has been covered in rich carpet, the institutional doors replaced with expensive-looking wood, and the cinderblock walls covered over in some kind of plaster paneling that would have fooled me completely had I not seen the way the original hallways looked.</p><p>With nowhere else to go, we proceed down the hallway, past a series of five or six shut wooden doors, until we reach a larger set of double doors at the end. Shrugging, I pull the open to reveal the room beyond. It’s a large room, obviously a former boardroom or something, currently filled by a large and ornate table ringed with chairs and covered in all sorts of papers, documents, maps, and the like. Behind it, against the wall, is a massive desk that appears carved from a single piece of wood, and dwarfed behind it in a much too large char sits Jack, glaring over the desk at us.</p><p> </p><p>“...Have you made your decision?” I ask gently, stepping forwards towards the table.</p><p> </p><p>“A condition.”</p><p>“Huh?” Jack’s reply catches me off-guard.</p><p>“I’ve got one condition.”</p><p>“Alright, shoot. What do you want?”</p><p>“...Someone’s gotta stay here with Anne.”</p><p>“Someone?”</p><p>“A Servant.” His glare doesn’t change. “They’re going to come for us.”</p><p>“They?”</p><p>“The Compact, probably. What’s left of it, at any rate.” Claire interjects.</p><p>Jack nods.</p><p>“If you do that... I’ll help you summon Archer back. You can use this place too.”</p><p> </p><p>...The kid drives a hard bargain. Archer would be a great asset, but losing Saber would hurt, and I doubt if Caster would let me leave her behind. Not that I would.</p><p>I guess that means I’ll—</p><p> </p><p>A) Leave Saber.<br/>B) Leave Caster.<br/>C) Leave Archer after he’s summoned.<br/>D) Try to convince him to take Claire as a guard instead. She is a magus, she’d be enough to guard against anything but Assassin.<br/>E) Accept, and try to summon an additional servant to guard. It’ll be a strain, but I don’t want to give up anyone else.<br/>F) Refuse.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0133"><h2>133. Chapter 133</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>E) Dead End.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>After considering for a moment, I nod. “Alright. Deal.”</p><p>Caster steps forward. “Are you sure, Will? Who will you–––”</p><p>“–––Relax. I’ve got this. Just give me a second, alright?”</p><p> </p><p>I close my eyes, and––––</p><p> </p><p>I’m standing back in the field of blackness. Quickly I shake of the chains that bind me—they seem lighter this time, less substantial. I’m out in no time, and step forwards towards the low wooden table that appears before me.</p><p>On it lies the cards I would expect—Lancer, Archer, and Berserker. Rider is there too although the card is reversed.</p><p>First things first. Let’s take care of Jack’s demand. I’ll summon–––</p><p>A) Berserker<br/>B) Lancer<br/>C) Rider</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0134"><h2>134. Chapter 134</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>A) Berserker</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>I make my decision. I reach out and touch the card, and the world around me dissolves and reforms––––</p><p> </p><p>I’m standing in the midst of a rolling plain. It’s dusk. I can taste the dust, dry in the the air, the humidity falling as the heat of the day moves on to the cool evening.</p><p> </p><p>CLINK.</p><p> </p><p>I hear the noise from behind me and spin around</p><p> </p><p>CLINK.</p><p> </p><p>There’s a man there. He’s absolutely massive. Towering over me.</p><p> </p><p>CLINK.</p><p> </p><p>With each swing of his enormous hammer muscles ripple under his dark skin.</p><p> </p><p>CLINK.</p><p> </p><p>He finally notices me, and in one smooth motion swings his hammer up onto his shoulder and turns to me. In the half-light of the setting sun I can see none of the cold rage in his eyes that was present the last time we’d met. Just a calm, steady gaze, that studies me intently. It’s not piercing, not frightening, but it contains a depth of... something that is slightly overwhelming, as if much rested on his appraisal of myself.</p><p>Neither of us speak for a few moments.</p><p> </p><p>“Will you come back with me?” I ask, finally, putting my request plainly.</p><p> </p><p>The dark man doesn’t respond. Barely even moves.</p><p> </p><p>“I know I’m not exactly your friend. But I could use your help. It’s.... better than sitting around here, right?”</p><p> </p><p>No response.</p><p> </p><p>Now I’m getting a little angry. “Fine. We’ll do this the hard way.”</p><p>I concentrate my mind, feeling energy rising up inside of me, and––––</p><p> </p><p>––––––open my eyes again.</p><p>“There,” I say, as a dark, shadowy shape begins to rise from the darkness which has welled up underneath my feet. “You can use thi–––”</p><p> </p><p>––––A half-formed shape swings in a perfect, unstoppable arc towards my face. There’s no time for any reaction. For me, or anyone else. Caster begins to move, but it’s too late already. The dark shape impacts my body with a sickening crack, scattering the shreds of black tendril that tried to save my life, and I know no more.</p><p> </p><p><strong>DEAD END</strong><br/>------------------------------------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>“Oww....” I sit up, rubbing my head. “What in the hell was that...”</p><p>I take a look around the room, a little dazed. “...Oh.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh?” a cheerful voice says from the front of the classroom. Caster...”sensei” is standing there, smiling. “Is that all you have to say for yourself?”</p><p>I scratch the back of my head awkwardly. “I guess....”</p><p>She sighs. “I suppose I can forgive you this time, seeing as you’ve made it a long while without any real mistakes. I’d say we missed you, but we’d all rather we didn’t see you in here very often, alright?”</p><p>“Well, I’m glad you at least don’t look forward to watching me die.”</p><p>“Oh, well, we don’t, at least.”</p><p>“What does that mea—”</p><p>“—Anyways, what do you think you did wrong this time?”</p><p>“...I guess I shouldn’t have tried to summon another servant?”</p><p>She claps her hands “Exactly! Avenger, what did you tell him?”</p><p>
  <strong>"The Servants you summon are under no command spell. They are therefore not obligated to obey you."</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>“Gah!” I jump out of my desk. Sitting behind the desk beside me is a black... thing, a bizarre jellyfish-like blob that seems to be made out of those black papery tendrils layered atop one another. It undulates slightly as it sits.</p><p> </p><p>“That’s right, Avenger. You really should pay attention to the his advice. Well, at least on that sort of thing.”</p><p>“Um. Er. Yea. Ok.” I swallow.</p><p>The blob turns to face me. <strong>"You know I only want the best for you."</strong> It wiggles a tentacle in my direction.</p><p>“Er. Thanks, I guess.”</p><p>It bobs a bit. <strong>"No need to thank me."</strong></p><p> </p><p>I turn back to Caster. “Alright, so I won’t try to summon another servant unless I have a way to make it listen to me.”</p><p>She nods, appeased. “I think you get it. You’ll do just fine.”</p><p> </p><p>I lay back and feel the world begin to fade out around me, listening to the world drift away—</p><p>“Just remember—you’re almost there!</p><p>Don’t feel discouraged when Doink doesn’t update! He probably has a good reason!</p><p>“Or he’s just lazy!—”</p><p> </p><p>------------------------------------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>...The kid drives a hard bargain. Archer would be a great asset, but losing Saber would hurt, and I doubt if Caster would let me leave her behind. Not that I would.</p><p>I guess that means I’ll—</p><p> </p><p>A) Leave Saber.<br/>B) Leave Caster.<br/>C) Leave Archer after he’s summoned.<br/>D) Try to convince him to take Claire as a guard instead. She is a magus, she’d be enough to guard against anything but Assassin.<br/>E) Accept, and try to summon an additional servant to guard. It’ll be a strain, but I don’t want to give up anyone else.<br/>F) Refuse.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0135"><h2>135. Chapter 135</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>C) Leave Archer</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>After a moment, I nod. “Alright. You let us use this place and Archer’s men, we’ll leave Archer here with you two. Deal?”</p><p>“...Deal,” he says.</p><p>“Alright then.” And I close my eyes and feel myself drifting down –––</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The gently rolling plains stretch out endlessly around me.</p><p>There was a battle here. Many battles. The ground is littered with its remains, bodies arrayed in all manner of garb, gutted horses, discarded weapons, banners flapping tattered and broken in the cold breeze. Dim light flickers between fast-moving clouds. A storm is coming.</p><p> </p><p>In the midst of it all, stands a tall, lone figure. His fine clothing, his regal baring, his air of authority, have all been stripped from him. His furs are dank and dirty, flecked with gore and worn with age. His beard is ragged. His eyes are haggard. But still he stands, here, in the middle of this desolation, a fierce, unquenchable will still radiating from his bearing, the set of his jaw, the look in his eyes.</p><p>“I was a conqueror, once,” he says.”</p><p>I say nothing.</p><p>“There is nothing,” he says, staring off towards some unseen point on the horizon, “that cannot be taken from you. Do you realize that?”</p><p>I say nothing.</p><p>“That was the lesson young Temujin learned. He was stripped of everything. Nothing that he cared about, nothing that he loved, was ever safe.” His voice is hard, almost monotonous. “So he decided to take it all for himself. To take everything before they could take it from him.” A short, barking laugh. “Simple. So simple. But that simple desire made him Khan of all Khans."</p><p>“But that Khan,” he says, finally turning to me, “is dead now. He died, learning that his simple truth was a lie all along. No matter how much he took, he would never be safe from losing it. In life, or in death. So, what is it you want from this dead man, black spirit? To take me to the blue heaven? Or to drag me down to my own personal hell, as those Christians taught?” That laugh again.</p><p> </p><p>I shake my head. “I’m here to bring you back. Archer.”</p><p>“Archer? Another title, another try. Still not enough. Even the powers of the Grail can’t give me the power to—”</p><p> </p><p>“Then don’t. Don’t take. Look, Archer. Remember. The Compact is still out there. They’re still plotting something. You knew something about it, didn’t you? You betrayed them for a reason.” I take a breath. “And they’re going to go after Jack and Anne. You know they will.”</p><p>He frowns at me. “Why does this matter to you? Or is this simply a ploy for my allegiance?”</p><p>“It’s no—alright, it is,” I say, shaking my head, “but that’s not it. I’m not after the Grail to get anything from it. I want to stop this whole mess. I’m not doing this for me. I don’t want anything but—but an ending.”</p><p> </p><p>–––– He looks at me for a moment longer, a strange look of curiosity on his face, and then, without warning, starts laughing, a staccato, barking sound that goes on for a long time.</p><p> </p><p>“You are naive and transparent,” he says, in between laughter, “but you are right, at least. Perhaps you understand something that the great Khan did not, when he first set out.”</p><p>I sigh. “So then you’ll come?”</p><p>He nods. “The Khan can ride out no longer. But Temujin, at least, can keep fighting.”</p><p> </p><p>He wheels around and looks out over the endless fields—</p><p>“Men! I approach you not as your Khan, but as your brother. Will you ride with me again!”</p><p>From around him in the field, bodies shudder, then rise, their flesh restitching and clothes mending as they shuffle, then walk, then march towards us, their faces brightening with the prospect of once again riding forth. I smile, close my eyes, and fall back –––</p><p>––––before opening them again.</p><p> </p><p>Again, my shadow lengthens, and from its depths rise a darkened figure, still clad in tattered leather and black fur, haggard and worn but with the bearing of a conqueror.</p><p> </p><p>He stands in the middle of the room. The black miasma around his feet fades, and my shadow returns to normal. He studies the area around him before his eyes fall on Jack, still seated behind the desk, his face slowly changing from shock to fear to restrained hope.</p><p> </p><p>Archer studies him for a second, then nods approvingly. “You have kept the place well, I see. Good work, Jack.”</p><p>“Y-yes.” Jack stammers, tears beginning to well up in the corners of his eyes. “I-I’m sorry I let people in—”</p><p>“You made the right decision,” Archer replies simply.</p><p>Jack remains silent, bowing his head slightly.</p><p> </p><p>Archer turns back towards us. “Now. On your leave, I will have my men re-armed and returned to their stations. I estimate that this whole facility will be back at working capacity by the morning. Is that acceptable?”</p><p> </p><p>Wow. He really doesn’t waste any time, does he? “Yeah, that's fine. We can discuss strategy in the morning.”</p><p>“Very well. Jack,” he says over his shoulder. “Come with me. We have work to do.”</p><p>“Y-yes!” Jack replies enthusiastically, as he hops down out of his chair and hurries over.</p><p>Archer nods. “The rest of you, make yourselves comfortable,” Archer says as he walks out the door. “We have much to do tomorrow.”</p><p>“There’s a few open rooms on this hall,” Jack says before he follows. “Just not the one closest to here.”</p><p> </p><p>“Thanks,” I reply. The thought of a place to rest finally reminds me of how tired I am. I’ve used a lot of mana today, so I guess it makes sense.</p><p> </p><p>I yawn and stretch. “Alright. I guess we should take that advice. We’ve got a lot to work on in the morning.”</p><p>Claire is shaking her head. “I’m not sure I like this whole arrangement. How can we be sure we can trust Archer? Especially if he summons back all his men.”</p><p>I smile. “Too late now, right? Besides, even if we can’t trust him, we’ve got two servants of our own, and, well, I don’t think he CAN hurt me. Not when he’s made of... that stuff.”</p><p>“I guess so. Saber, come with me. I at least want a Servant of my own watching me.” She starts to walk out. Saber shoots me a resigned look, shrugs, and follows her out.</p><p> </p><p>I turn to Caster. “Alright. Shall we?”</p><p>She nods. I take a step towards the door–––</p><p> </p><p>–––and feel my feet fall out from under me.</p><p> </p><p>The world gets a little... fuzzy for a moment. As I open my eyes again I’m resting halfway on the floor. Caster is holding me up.</p><p>“Eheheh... guess I’m more tired than I thought,” I manage.</p><p>She shakes her head. “I knew it. You have overexerted yourself. Your body isn’t used to using that much mana in one day, servant circuits or not.” She looks admonishing, but I can hear the worry in her voice.</p><p>“Relax, relax. I just... need a little help, is all.”</p><p>She sighs, but she’s smiling, at least. “Alright.” She mumbles something, and I feel myself being lifted slightly off the ground.</p><p>She steps back after a second, smiling at me suspended in midair.</p><p>“...I guess that works too.”</p><p>“Oh?” She cocks her head to the side. “Were you hoping I would carry you?”</p><p>“...”</p><p>“Now come.” Her smile softens. “We both need some rest.”</p><p> </p><p>And with that we both walk (well, she walks, at least) out the door.</p><p> </p><p>--------------------------------------<br/>
Interlude 11<br/>
--------------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>Somewhere, high above the city, the pale man looks up from his reading. His office, once an ultra-modern affair in wood and glass, is now strewn with papers, parchments, old tomes of innumerable age haphazardly perched on every available bit of space. Nothing, it seems could disturb this work, whatever it was, except this. Whatever it was, some inkling, some idea, some distance sense of worry, it finally gave him pause.</p><p>“Already...” he murmurs, before pressing a call button on his desk.</p><p>It takes a minute for the secretary to arrive—it had, after all, been days since the last time it had been pressed. He enters silently, ignoring the mess—one cannot work with a being like this without becoming accustomed to his habits, after all.</p><p> </p><p>“Call them in,” he says, simply.</p><p>“...Them, sir?”</p><p>“Yes. All of them. I want this town to be mine by midnight tomorrow.”</p><p>“...Yes, sir.” He turns on his heels and leaves, knowing better than to question his orders any more.</p><p> </p><p>The pale man turns back to his book–––</p><p> </p><p>“That wasn’t the plan, ‘old man’.”</p><p>––He doesn’t look up. There is only one person, after all, who could possibly enter this space without his permission.</p><p>“The plan has been... modified,” he says simply. “The vessel is becoming too powerful. We must restrict its ability to move. This is the best wa–––”</p><p> </p><p>––––His words are interrupted by a blow to the throat. It slams him back out of his chair and pins him to the ground. The sandy-haired youth sits beside him, smiling, his open palm on his neck.</p><p> </p><p>“I am supposed to end this, ‘old man’. Me. You’re taking away all my fun.”</p><p>“Your... enjoyment...” the man wheezes, seemingly unconcerned, “is... of no... importance. You know... I... am right....”</p><p> </p><p>“....Hm.” The young man releases his grip on his neck, allowing him to stand up and brush himself off. He is only silent for a moment before he turns back to him, that same half smile still present on his face. “Alright, alright. I know I’m too ‘crazy’ to be making the plans.”</p><p>He leans in. “Just don’t make it too boring, alright? I’ve been waiting a very long time for this, you know.”</p><p>The pale man nods as he takes his seat again. “I know,” he says, a smile of his own forming on his lips. “It’s why I chose you, after all. Do not fear. We shall both get what we seek, when all this is over.”</p><p>“Good. I’ll let you handle it for now, then. I’ll be around–––”</p><p> </p><p>The young man is gone. The old man turns back to his book. And the night continues on, unaware of what the morning might bring...</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>--------------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>–––––Slowly, I open my eyes.</p><p> </p><p>A cool breeze rolls across my face, carrying an unfamiliar scent to my nostrils. I appear to be laying in a small patch of moss underneath a tall, branching tree.</p><p>Groggily, I get to me feet. I’m still tired, but at least I can move. “...Caster? Anyone?” I call out, but my voice simply echoes to silence in the dark forest surrounding me.</p><p> </p><p>In the distance, I can hear noises—a distant cacophony that I can’t make any sense of. Not that any of this makes sense.</p><p> </p><p>I—</p><p> </p><p>A) May as well stay here.<br/>
B) Should head towards the sounds.<br/>
C) Should head away from the sounds.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Status Screen Updated!</p><p><strong>Servant Avenger</strong><br/>Integration Percentage - 29%</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>Servant Archer Alter</strong>
</p><p>Master- William Cooper<br/>True Name- Ghengis Khan<br/>Sex- Male<br/>Alignment- Neutral Good</p><p>Strength- D<br/>Endurance- C<br/>Agility- A+<br/>Magic- C<br/>Luck- A<br/>Noble Phantasm: A</p><p> </p><p>Class Abilities-<br/>Independent Action: B</p><p>Magic Resistance: D</p><p>Skills:<br/>Ride: A- Although Archers usually don’t ride, Khan is a special case as a primarily mounted archer.</p><p>Adaptability: A+ - Khan has a gift for understanding new weapons and technology and their potential tactical use. He and all me working under him can use any weapon with full proficiency (counts as A rank) and all</p><p>Charisma A</p><p>Noble Phantasms:</p><p>The Golden Horde: The men of Khan’s horde followed him even unto death. Khan’s army is summoned with him, obeys his command (and his master’s) without question, and shares any and all proficiencies with Khan instantly (any weapon Khan can use, they can use, including guns using the Treasure of the Khan.)</p><p>The Treasure of the Khan: Archer can access his treasury through the use of a symbolic key. By sacrificing portions of his treasure, which includes powerful magical artifacts, he can use them as ammunition which does noble-phantasm level damage.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0136"><h2>136. Chapter 136</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>B) Head towards the sounds.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>I stumble towards the source of the sounds. I can’t walk properly. There’s something about this place. Everything is... bright. Over-saturated. Vague.</p><p> </p><p>The sounds grow more distinct as I approach. The sound of voices. Shouts. Steel clanking against steel. The hooves of horses against the earth.</p><p> </p><p>––––I... know this place. I’ve only ever seen it in dreams, but I would recognize it anywhere.</p><p> </p><p>So what is this? Another dream? I stumble forward. If so, it’s more vivid than ever before. I’m not just watching—I’m here, bodily. But why?</p><p> </p><p>As the clamor increases to a peak, I can see the edge of the forest through the trees. As the battle rages in the distance, a lone figure, clothed in black and silver, stands at its edge, staring out across it’s bloody reaches.</p><p> </p><p>Quietly, I approach her. She shows no response, not even as I reach her. We stand, side by side, as the battle rages before us.</p><p> </p><p>I turn my head to look at her. Caster only watches the brutal scene, her face a blank mask.</p><p> </p><p>A) Say something.<br/>B) Stay silent and watch.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0137"><h2>137. Chapter 137</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>B) Stay silent and watch.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>I don’t know what to say. Or if she would even respond. So I stay silent, waiting.</p><p> </p><p>The battle is winding to a close. Those knights that remain standing are battered, bruised, tired. Neither side has won the day, but both sides have taken heavy losses.</p><p>In the middle of the carnage, fighting as if on a a battlefield all their own, two figures clash in red and blue. Their swordsmanship is on a level unmatched by any of the seasoned warriors surrounding them, and they fight with a singular sense of purpose—one or both of them will die this day.</p><p> </p><p>––––And as the two are locked in this fated combat, the Master and Servant watch from the edge of the forest.</p><p> </p><p>My eyes are drawn back over to Caster. She is unchanging. The look in her eyes is that of someone who has a terrible weight on her shoulders.</p><p> </p><p>A cry rises up from the battlefield. The knight in blue lunges forwards, piercing the chest of the red knight in a single smooth thrust. ––But even in his dying moment the red knight doesn’t falter, landing a smashing blow to his opponent. They stand, as if frozen, for a brief moment, before the red knight crumples. The blue knight staggers backwards, towards the farther forest.</p><p> </p><p>A sound from beside me breaks the spell of the scene. Caster has turned her back to the field, standing a few paces beyond me into the forest.</p><p> </p><p>“I... I thought that you deserved to see this. How it ended. That is all.”</p><p> </p><p>She starts to walk away, leaving me on the side of this bloodstained field. I—</p><p> </p><p>A) Wait.<br/>B) Call out to her.<br/>C) Stop her.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0138"><h2>138. Chapter 138</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>C) Stop her.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>I don’t have time to think. I reach out and grasp her hand as she tries to leave.</p><p> </p><p>“Wait.” She stops. She’s not resisting. We remain there a moment, silent and still.</p><p> </p><p>“...What happened next.”</p><p> </p><p>“I told you already. I made a pact with the Grail.”</p><p> </p><p>“And then?”</p><p> </p><p>“...There was nothing, and then I was in an alleyway with you.”</p><p> </p><p>“And what then?”</p><p> </p><p>“Then—what are you trying to say?” She’s not looking at me.</p><p> </p><p>“You said... this was how it ended, right? But it doesn’t sound like an ending to me.”</p><p> </p><p>She is silent.</p><p> </p><p>“You did something, right? You—"</p><p>“I don’t deserve—”</p><p>“Don’t. Don’t say that. I don’t care about—”</p><p>“But I do!” she explodes, whirling around to face me, and now I can see the tears that have welled up in her eyes. “I did something terrible! Will. I cannot just, just pretend like it never happened! I have to live with it! I have to remember it! I have to—”</p><p> </p><p>–––I can’t let her finish. I pull her in close. She doesn’t resist. The world around us dissolves into nothingness and we are left standing in the middle of our lavishly furnished guest room. She must have taken me back here before. I hold her close to me. She sobs, resting her forehead on my shoulder.</p><p> </p><p>“...What do I do,” she says finally, calming down. “I do not know... what I have to do.”</p><p>I don’t say anything. We stand, silent, content for the moment to just hold on to one another, no sound in the room but our breathing. I can feel her breath, the rise and fall of her chest against mine.</p><p> </p><p>“Sorry,” I say finally. “I... can’t answer that question. Not without being selfish.”</p><p>“...Try it anyways.”</p><p>I take a deep breath. “...I, well, I just... I don’t want you to hurt yourself anymore. I’ve never... I’ve never met anyone like you before, and I see you smile and I hear you laugh and it...it hurts because I know that that’s really you. But you’re... caging yourself up. You’re trying to punish yourself for what you’ve done, and it’s only hurting you, and there’s just got to be another way for you to do this. One that won’t...” I can’t finish the sentence.</p><p>“...”</p><p>“...Sorry, I kno—”</p><p> </p><p>––––My words are interrupted by a warm sensation against my lips. Caster has pressed herself closer against me, sealing off my mouth with her own.</p><p> </p><p>She pulls away after a moment that seems like an age. “Just... don’t talk for now, alright? Let's just...”</p><p> </p><p>I nod. I have no idea what’s going to happen tomorrow, or the next day, or the day after that, but, for tonight, at least, maybe things can be alright...</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0139"><h2>139. Chapter 139</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The morning sun shifts through the blinds on the narrow windows, leaving slitted bands of golden light painted on the walls and floor. It’s amazing how well this building was remodeled—you almost can’t tell that this lavish guest room was once some sort of office. If it wasn’t for that hotel we stayed at, this would be the fanciest place I’ve ever slept.</p><p>Caster is curled up beside me, the curve of her back nestled up against my side. I don’t want to wake her, so I remain still. She doesn’t really need sleep, I know, but, well, seeing her like this isn’t something I’ve had enough of yet, I guess. I’m still not sure how things have turned out the way they have, but—</p><p> </p><p>–––As if on cue, there is a quiet knock at the door. Damn.</p><p> </p><p>I take one last look at Caster before climbing out of bed as quietly as I can. I hastily retrieve my clothing from the floor and get dressed as best I can. I give up on socks after about a minute and hurry over to the door, opening it just enough to poke my head outside.</p><p> </p><p>Standing outside is a man I don’t recognize, dressed in a crisp black uniform. “Sir,” he says, making his hand into a fist and placing it over his chest in what I assume to be some sort of salute. “The Khan wishes to consult with you.”</p><p>Oh. That’s who it is. “Alright, um, I’ll be there in a few minutes.”</p><p>He salutes again and starts to leave. “Hey, wait a sec.”</p><p>“Sir?” He stops.</p><p>“Is there, like, a bathroom or something around here?”</p><p>He nods. If the question was strange to him, he’s not letting it show. “There is one two doors down the hall, Sir.”</p><p>“Alright. Thanks.”</p><p>He salutes a third time and proceeds back down the hallway. ––I think I could get used to having these guys around.</p><p> </p><p>I close the door softly and turn around. Caster, to my surprise, is seated on the edge of the bed, fully dressed. I stare at her for a moment.</p><p>“Magic,” she says, simply.</p><p>“...I thought so.”</p><p>She giggles. “It didn’t seem to bother you earlier.”</p><p>I sigh, but I’m smiling. “Wish I had it that easy. Now help me find my socks.”</p><p> </p><p>---------------------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>After a few minutes of searching and the first good shower I’ve had in the past few days the two of us head back up the hallway towards the ‘main office’ or whatever it is. I assume that’s where Archer is.</p><p> </p><p>We push our way through the ornate wooden doors. It looks like we’re the last ones here—Archer and Jack are seated at one end of the long conference table, with Claire, Saber, and Andy seated at various other spots along it’s length. Their discussion ceases as we enter. Behind one end of the table, a large television screen is playing some sort of news report. Looks like some kind of military thing—it’s muted, so it’s probably not important.</p><p> </p><p>“Took you long enough,” Claire says, annoyed.</p><p>I scratch the back of my head. “Sorry. Yesterday, uh, took a lot out of me.”</p><p>“Well, while you two were busy sleeping in,” she snaps, “we’ve been trying to figure out what the hell we’re going to do next.”</p><p> </p><p>“Alright, alright,” I protest, sliding into a chair midway down the table. Caster takes a seat beside me. “So bring me up to speed, then.” A feeling of unease is beginning to settle on me. The whole table seems somehow tense and uncertain, as if some sort of concern is hanging over them.</p><p>Claire starts to open her mouth, but Archer cuts her off. “It seems,” he says, “that the Compact has either anticipated or detected your latest move.”</p><p>“You mean, coming here and summoning you?”</p><p> </p><p>Archer nods, and gestures towards the television screen. Someone presses the unmute button, because suddenly I can hear the announcer’s voice—</p><p> </p><p>“–––––new reports coming in about the unknown paramilitary terrorist group that has seized control of the former US military installation on the outside of city limits. Since last night, when the Governor authorized the deployment of National Guard troops to retake the facility, troops has been pouring into the city, as officials state that the terrorists are heavily armed, with access to high-tech military hardware. The mayor’s office has declared a state of emergency, and has urged all residents to remain in their homes and avoid traveling on the west side of town until further notice–––”</p><p> </p><p>–––I sit back, stunned, watching the footage of troop transports and tanks rolling through the commercial district.</p><p>“This is the biggest potential breach of secrecy we’ve had to deal with since... ever,” Claire moans. “We can’t fight them without giving ourselves away. Which is a death sentence in itself.”</p><p>“We have been out-maneuvered, yes,” says Archer, “but we have yet to be defeated.”</p><p>“So? We can’t fight the military!”</p><p>“Why?” interjects Andy. “We’ve got magic and our own army and shit, right?”</p><p>“Because we can’t use them!” Claire rounds on Andy. “Don’t you get it? The entire reason I was sent here was to stop people from finding out about Magi! If word were to get out...” She sags. “Well, we’d all be dead, for starters. And possibly everyone else in a hundred mile radius. I don’t know the containment procedures for such a large leak. The Association... tends to keep quiet about them.”</p><p>“So we just let them come kill us, then? That’s a brilliant solution—”</p><p> </p><p>“Stop. That's enough.” I interrupt. “Archer is right. We’re not done yet. We just have to do something.</p><p>“I see several choices here,” I say, wracking my brain for ideas. “We can always just leave. Caster’s illusions are powerful enough that we could leave the base with very little effort. A suddenly empty base would be mysterious, but it wouldn’t really be a breach of secrecy, would it?”</p><p>“I... guess not,” Claire replies.</p><p>“If so,” Archer interjects, “we could still leave some men here to behave as the occupying force. It would serve as an excellent distraction.”</p><p>I nod. “True, although I’d like to avoid unnecessary casualties. Alternatively, we could hole up here and let them come to us. It may be that we could divert the military without needing to fight, using illusions or something. I do hate to lose this place as a base of operations.”</p><p>Archer nods. “It would be a pity, yes, But a base is less important than its commanders.”</p><p>“And then?” Saber interrupts. “Shall we take the fight to them? Or are we just going to find another place to hide?”</p><p> </p><p>“Right. Well—”</p><p> </p><p>A) —We should just abandon the base.<br/>B) —We should leave men here as a distraction and leave ourselves.<br/>C) —We should hole up here and find a way to divert the military.<br/>D) —We should stay here and fight.</p><p>and</p><p>E) —We should go on the offensive<br/>F) —We should find a new place to hide out first.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0140"><h2>140. Chapter 140</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>B) and E)</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>I sigh. “We don’t have many options, do we? I say we leave, for starters. If the Compact planned this, it’s gotta be meant to keep us busy and maybe to bring the Association down on our heads. And we can’t afford either right now.” I look over to Archer. “...As much as I’d like to avoid casualties, it’d be better for everyone if the soldiers found what they were looking for.”</p><p> </p><p>Archer nods. “Then they shall. We have enough conventional weaponry to put up a good fight. My men have already died once before, remember. Do not trouble yourself with them.”</p><p>“Alright. Then the rest of us can slip out before they get anywhere close to here.”</p><p>“And then?” Saber rumbles.</p><p>I smile. “Then we take the fight to the Compact. If they’re going to pull stunts like this, we’ve got to finish them off before they make the situation even worse.</p><p> </p><p>I look around the table. “Does that sound good to everyone?”</p><p> </p><p>Archer nods. “I have no objections.”</p><p>“I agree as well,” adds Claire. “It’s the best way to avoid any breach of secrecy, and it gets us into a good position to strike back.”</p><p>“As long as we’re fighting by tonight,” grumbles Saber.</p><p>Caster smiles at me. “I shall follow your lead, of course.”</p><p>Andy just shrugs.</p><p> </p><p>I nod. “Alright. We’ll separate into groups again as soon as we leave. Saber, stay with Claire. Andy, you go with Archer, Jack, and Anne. Find something to wrap that thing in first. Work your way through the city as you can and we’ll all meet up somewhere. Archer, you know where the Compact meets, right?”</p><p>“Yes. We will lead you there once we’ve met up again.”</p><p>“But what part of town is it?”</p><p>“On the edge of the commercial and industrial districts.”</p><p>“One of the new buildings, then? There’s been a lot of new construction there recently.”</p><p>He nods.</p><p> </p><p>“Alright. So we need a place on that side of town to meet.”</p><p>“There’s always the park,” Claire suggests. “It’s worked for us before, and it’s on the exact opposite side of town from where all the military types are going to be.”</p><p>“If we want to be closer,” says Archer, “there are many empty warehouses and half-finished buildings in the industrial district which would make suitable staging grounds for an assault.”</p><p> </p><p>I nod. “Any other suggestions?”</p><p> </p><p>“Your apartment is near there, right?” chimes in Andy. “Have you even been back there once this week? I doubt anyone’s still hanging around there.”</p><p>“That’s true. Well, I vote we—”</p><p> </p><p>A)—Meet at the park<br/>B)—Meet in the industrial district<br/>C)—Meet at my apartment.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0141"><h2>141. Chapter 141</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>B) Meet in the industrial district.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>“I vote we meet somewhere in the industrial district. It’s not somewhere we’ve been before, and its closest to our objective. Does that sound good to everyone?”</p><p>Everyone nods, if a little half-heartedly.</p><p> </p><p>We have no idea how long it will be until the Guard arrives, so we make our preparations as quickly as possible. Archer calls up a detailed map of the city and points out the location—a warehouse owned by the Rensfields through some chain of corporate lingo that I didn’t even try to figure out. After setting a meeting time at nine in the evening, we disperse to gather our things, a group of Archer’s men entering the room behind us to dispose of anything potentially incriminating. I can hear the sound of men busily at work even from up here, in the comfort of the Rensfields’ living quarters.</p><p> </p><p>Caster and I return to our room. We didn’t have much stuff to begin with, so it’s not hard for us to gather our things—or, rather, for me to gather my things while Caster watches.</p><p>After I find my coat and scarf I sit down on the side of the bed beside her with a sigh. “All this first thing in the morning...”</p><p>She squeezes my hand. “We have dealt with worse than this before, Will. We could have Lancer at our door again.”</p><p>I groan. “I dunno. I think I slept more that night.”</p><p>“Oh? Are you complaining again? Should I have let you sleep instead?”</p><p>I sigh, smiling again. “Just can’t win, can I?” I get to my feet and pull her up by the hand. She smiles, and I can feel my heart skip a few more beats, but I just return her gaze for a moment before releasing her hand and swinging my coat over my shoulders.</p><p> </p><p>As we step back into the hallway, I can see Archer and Jack stepping out of their room, Jack leading Anne by the hand, all bundled up in heavy winter clothing. Archer sees me and nods. “We will meet up by the back entrance. Is that acceptable?”</p><p>I nod. “Yeah, that’s fine.”</p><p> </p><p>–––At the sound of my voice, Anne suddenly turns her head to look at me. She squints at me carefully for a few moments.</p><p> </p><p>“...Do I know you?” she says uncertainly.</p><p>“Uh, n-no. I’m Will. I’m a friend of Archer’s.”</p><p>“Oh. Hi Will. I’m Anne! Are you sure we’ve never met befo—”</p><p>“Anne, please,” Archer gently chides her. “We must hurry.”</p><p>“Oh, fine. Always hurrying around... bye Will!” She waves as Archer leads her down the hallway.</p><p> </p><p>In fifteen minutes we’re all gathered by the back gate, shivering slightly in the morning chill. Snow is still drifting down from the sky above us, the heavy grey clouds above us preventing any cheerful morning sunlight from reaching us. Andy arrives last, carrying a suspicious-looking long box wrapped up in packing tape. “It’s the only thing I could find to fit the damn thing.”</p><p>“It’s suspicious as hell,” says Claire.</p><p>“Do you have a better idea?”</p><p>“Alright,” I interrupt. “We’ve got our three groups. We’re all traveling east, towards the industrial district. It shouldn’t take all day to get there, but try not to arrive before the appointed time tonight. Just kill time around town until then, I guess. If there’s any trouble, Saber, Archer, just try to be subtle, alright?”</p><p>Archer and Saber nod, Saber a little begrudgingly.</p><p>“Alright. Now then, we split up as soon as we get out the gate. Caster and I will go—”</p><p> </p><p>A) Northeast, towards the highway.<br/>B) East, through the forest.<br/>C) Southeast, along the edge of town.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0142"><h2>142. Chapter 142</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>C) Southeast, along the edge of town.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>“Caster and I will skirt around the southern edge of town. Each of you should pick your own route and go from there. We’ll meet up tonight at the assigned place. Try to stay out of trouble until then.”</p><p>The assembled group nods. Andy grins. “That goes for you too.”</p><p>I nod at Caster. She speaks a string of syllables and the world around us takes on a familiar cloudy cast.</p><p>“This will last until you pass at least a half-mile from my presence,” she says to the rest, “enough to get you away from easy capture. After that, you must stay out of sight on your own.”</p><p> </p><p>–––With that, I open the back gate, and we file out into the cold morning air...</p><p> </p><p>--------------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>Caster and I reach what counts as the outskirts of town after a short half-hour or so in the forest. It’s not the sketchy sort of “wrong side of the tracks” outskirts, more the expanding suburbia-style that tends to tack itself on the outside of small but steadily growing cities. Rows of newly built houses lining identical streets. It’s not unpleasant, but—</p><p>“How dull,” Caster says. “And yet people desire to live in places like this?”</p><p>I shrug. “People like owning their own homes, I guess. Even if it’s not that great, and they have to pay a mortgage and such. It’s the principle of the thing, or something like that.”</p><p>Caster frowns. “Well, I suppose it is no worse than serfdom.”</p><p> </p><p>After a while we get tired of walking along the road and start cutting through yards, Caster’s illusion keeping us from discovery as we hop fences (which, I have to say, is a lot easier with servant powers) and make our way back towards campus, which basically marks the southern edge of the city proper.</p><p>Caster holds out an arm to stop me as we approach. “...It seems people have taken the soldiers’ words to heart. There doesn’t seem to be anyone around. We should be cautious.”</p><p>“Why? No-one can see us anyways.”</p><p>“Because we are more likely to be attacked if there are no witnesses.”</p><p> </p><p>“Right.” I check my watch. It’s only around noon, by now. We still have plenty of time to kill. We should—</p><p> </p><p>A) Head straight for the industrial district and scope around there. Maybe we can find out something that will help us out tonight.<br/>B) Find somewhere to hide out outside of town and wait until evening before we move in.<br/>C) Wander around town for the rest of the day. It’s the least suspicious, and we might stumble on something interesting.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0143"><h2>143. Chapter 143</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>C) Wander around town for the rest of the day.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>I shrug, and start walking again. “Then we might as well just kill time around town, right?”</p><p>Caster frowns, falling in step beside me. “Are you sure we should go somewhere so visible?”</p><p>“Why not? What’s so suspicious about two people, say, on a date?”</p><p>Caster sighs. “...Now, why did I expect your answer to be something like that?” —But she’s smiling when she says it.</p><p> </p><p>“So, what do you want to do?”</p><p>We make our way through campus, weaving our way along the tree-lined pathways towards the northern exit and the commercial district.</p><p>“What do I want?”</p><p>“Well, yeah. I mean, the last few times I took you places, right? I figure I should give you the choice this time. Although I don’t know what’ll be open today...”</p><p>“Hmm....” Caster mocks being deep in thought. She stops suddenly. “If I remember correctly... this was where I met Andy for the first time.”</p><p>I nod, and, thinking, point across the grass to another walkway. “And that was where we confronted Rider, over there.”</p><p>She laughs. “He was so angry. It was almost comical. Here, come with me.”</p><p>Before I can do anything, she slips her hand into mine and starts to pull me along. I can’t do anything but smile and follow her...</p><p>We work our way out the northern gate of campus, taking side streets and wandering in the general direction of the commercial district. I wonder exactly why we’re taking this route until I see a familiar alleyway...</p><p> </p><p>I look over at Caster, who just smiles at me. “The first place I saw. Not the best first impression of this era, I must say.”</p><p>I glance around. It’s only been a week or so, but there’s already no sign of what happened here, save for a few deep cracks and potholes in the pavement caused by Berserker and Rider’s fight, and a few burn marks on the alley walls that I assume must have been Caster.</p><p>“What happened after I passed out, anyways?”</p><p>“Hm? Well, it did not take much to realize what the situation was. Rider was startled enough by my appearance that a quick assault was enough to scare him off. Then I could focus on tending to you.”</p><p>“You took me into Avalon then, didn’t you?”</p><p>“You remember?”</p><p>I nod. “A little. Sunlight, and warmth, mostly. It didn’t feel like cold pavement, at least.”</p><p>She smiles. “You were more resilient than I thought, then. You were very badly wounded, you know. Without Avalon’s help, I might not have been able to heal you.”</p><p>“Well, I’m glad you were the one who saved me, then.” I smile.</p><p>She snorts playfully. “Flatterer.”</p><p> </p><p>A few more minutes walk takes us into the commercial district. The streets, for the most part, are empty of cars and people, and most of the shops and restaurants are closed—I guess most people listened to the news and stayed home. It’s a strange feeling, walking through this area, normally choked with people in the afternoons, and seeing it barren.</p><p> </p><p>Caster looks around as we walk along, frowning. We had dropped the illusion covering us when we entered the area, Caster’s cloak and dress flowing into a comfortable-looking grey coat and scarf, and she’s already applied the proper enchantment to cover the markings on my face, despite my insistence that they made me look totally badass.</p><p> </p><p>“Sorry,” I say. “Guess we don’t have many options today.”</p><p>Caster just hrms.</p><p> </p><p>We stop for a moment outside of 3rd Street Records. Today, its speaker system is silent, and its doors are shut and locked. Damn. I was hoping we could go inside again, if only for just a moment...</p><p>I look beside me. Caster is peering in the window with a disappointed expression on her face. I can tell she wanted to visit more places, and with this place closed too...</p><p> </p><p>A) Wait, we both have Servant powers. Let’s just... go inside anyways.<br/>B) Let’s just move on somewhere else. Better to not potentially draw attention to ourselves.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0144"><h2>144. Chapter 144</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>A) Let’s just... go inside anyways.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>—Wait, what the hell are we doing?</p><p> </p><p>I pull on Caster’s hand. “Come on. Let’s go in.”</p><p> </p><p>She hesitates. “Are you sure that is a good idea?”</p><p>“Why not? We’re not going to take anything, and there’s no-one around to notice us. You’d know if there was, right?”</p><p>“...That is true, I suppose.” She lets me lead her up to the door, and, mumbling a few words, causes the front door to swing open.</p><p> </p><p>The air is still and quiet inside, the cavernous space of the shop lit only by the light from the shop’s windows and a few emergency lights in the back. It’s at least warmer than outside, though. We stamp the snow off of our boots and shut the door behind us, looking around the empty store.</p><p> </p><p>I take a look over at Caster. “So, what do you feel like listening to?”</p><p>Caster steps forward, gazing around the low racks of CDs and records. “...What is in the back, there?” she asks.</p><p>I follow her gaze. “Oh, they sell some used instruments and sound equipment and stuff too.”</p><p>“Those are instruments? Even those big black boxes?”</p><p>“Sort of... it’s complicated. Do you want me to show you?”</p><p>Caster frowns. “...Perhaps not. I would not want to risk...” She protests, but it doesn’t sound like her heart is in it.</p><p> </p><p>A) Show her the instruments. Of course, I can’t really play much myself, but I can show her how they work, at least.<br/>B) Just put on some music. The sound system in this place is great, and we have it all to ourselves.<br/>C) This is still risky. We should just listen to something at one of the headphone stations like last time.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0145"><h2>145. Chapter 145</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>A) Show her the instruments.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>“It’ll be fine. Come on,” I say, motioning for her to follow me towards the back of the store.</p><p>“Are you sure?” Caster peers back. “It all looks... complicated. Should we?”</p><p>“Sure. I know what I’m doing.” Well, mostly.</p><p> </p><p>Then, as we approach the rear of the store, Caster slips her hand into mine again. At first I think it’s nothing, but I feel a slight tug and turn to look at her.</p><p> </p><p>––––<em>"They’re here,"</em> she says in my mind’s ear, sounding sad.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"Who?"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"It’s Assassin. I can recognize his... oddness now, at least. And... a normal human with him."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Samantha?"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Most likely. As far as we know, she is his current master."</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>"Great. Do they know we’re here?"</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p><em>"I cannot tell. They are headed in our direction... it cannot simply be chance."</em> Her hand tightens for a second, and I can see a flash of fear in her eyes as she looks away from me. <em>"Will. I shall set up a barrier as a distraction. Find a back exit from this place and start towards the meeting place. I’ll follow as soon as I’m sure Assassin is off of our trail—"</em></p><p> </p><p>––––She begins to release my hand. I—</p><p> </p><p>A) Do what she says.<br/>B) Hold on.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0146"><h2>146. Chapter 146</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>B) Hold on.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>–––I tighten my hand around hers. <em>"No. We’re staying together."</em></p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"Will, you—"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"You know what Assassin can do. And I can fight now."</em> I try to smile. <em>"We’re in this together, right?"</em>
</p><p>Caster hesitates, then squeezes my hand back. <em>"But... we cannot risk a full assault. Even with surprise on our side, I don’t know how to beat him. We don’t know for sure if Samantha is his master now."</em></p><p> </p><p>I nod. <em>"Yeah... what about Avalon? Can’t we just... hop over there for a little while until they leave?"</em></p><p>She frowns. <em>"It’s possible, but I’d have to create a doorway."</em></p><p>
  <em>"That’s easy enough though, right? Since you’re not forcing anyone through?"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Well, yes, but even easy magic will right now will give our exact location away. And I do not know if we could close the doorway before Assassin could reach us...."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"So he could follow us through? That wouldn’t be so bad, right? Better there than here."</em>
</p><p>She glares at me. <em>"I cannot leave an unbound Servant running around in my domain! If he enters, we would have to get him out. Distance in Avalon does not correspond with distance in this world. No matter where we go there, when we leave, we will come back exactly where we left from."</em></p><p>
  <em>"Damn. Well, then we can either run, or try and ambush them."</em>
</p><p>Caster is frowning to herself. <em>"...It is possible, I suppose. If we cannot evade him, it would give us a better... venue than this."</em> She gestures to the rows of records around us.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"Yeah... Alright. Let’s—"</em>
</p><p> </p><p>A) Try escaping to Avalon.<br/>
B) Run out the back and try to evade.<br/>
C) Try to set an ambush.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0147"><h2>147. Chapter 147</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>B) Run out the back</strong>
</p><p> </p><p><em>"Not worth it. Come on, let’s go."</em> I point towards the back door. <em>"Are they still coming?"</em></p><p><em>"Yes,"</em> she says. <em>"I can confuse his senses, but not disguise our presence—at least, not from him."</em> She looks at me. <em>"You are difficult to cover up, you know. They’ll reach the shop soon."</em></p><p>
  <em>"Yeah, sorry about that. Let’s just get out of here."</em>
</p><p> </p><p>I pull Caster towards the back exit, a black, unadorned door which would be all but invisible if not for the glowing orange sign above it. I push the metal handle and step out into the cold alleyway behind it–––</p><p>–––To the sound of a blaring alarm behind me.</p><p> </p><p><em>"What? What is happening?"</em> Caster says, looking around in confusion.</p><p> </p><p><em>"...it’s an Emergency Exit,"</em> I reply, as I feel my stomach drop.</p><p> </p><p>I barely have time to react. I pull Caster sideways away from the door just as an object comes hurtling through the open doorway, impacting the wall with enough force to crack the brick opposite and send shards of wood and vinyl clattering down to the pavement.</p><p> </p><p>In another second, Assassin is standing just inside the doorway, his coat dusted with wood splinters from flinging the record rack, that same eerie half-smile on his face as always. He surveys the alleyway carefully, and I tense involuntarily as his eyes pass over Caster and I, but her magic holds true.</p><p>“Hide and seek, is it?” he calls out cheerfully, “You sure you want to do this? You don’t seem to be very good at it.”</p><p> </p><p><em>"Will?"</em> Caster tenses beside me.</p><p>I nod. <em>"We’ll—"</em></p><p> </p><p>A) Attack now.<br/>B) Flee.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0148"><h2>148. Chapter 148</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>A) Attack now!</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>–––Sometimes, the only way out of a situation is to dive right in.</p><p> </p><p>I look over at Caster. <em>"Shall we?"</em></p><p>She nods, her expression firm. <em>"Just be careful... You know that our only choice may be to kill Samantha."</em></p><p>I tighten my grip on her hand. <em>"...Don’t worry about me. Just get ready."</em></p><p> </p><p>All it takes is a nod, and we spring into action. Caster leaps to the air, soaring up towards the narrow patch of sky framed by the alleyway, as I charge straight forward at Assassin, a blade of hardened black already appearing in my hands––</p><p> </p><p>My stroke is true, but Assassin is fast. As I strike he shifts to one side, springing out of the doorframe, so instead of sliding cleanly into his gut my blade strikes a long, thin, shallow cut along his side. I can feel the tip of the blade hit flesh, though, as it whips out past his body, and though I whirl around for a second strike, Assassin is already standing against the opposite wall.</p><p> </p><p>–––He smiles at me, a thin stain of blood appearing on the shirt beneath his ripped jacket. “Not bad! Lets see how you like it, hm?”</p><p> </p><p>–––––I stagger. There’s a sudden searing pain in my side, as if something was tearing its way out from inside me. I gasp in pain. Right below my ribs. The flesh is <em>shredding</em> itself. A splatter of red rips through my jacket and paints the doorframe beside me crimson.</p><p> </p><p>“Can’t take what you can dish out? That’s too ba—”</p><p> </p><p>—But as he speaks threads of red and black are weaving their way around my torso, stopping the bleeding, holding back the shredded flesh, dulling the pain. I straighten up as the pain begins to recede.</p><p> </p><p>“Hm.” Assassin’s half-smile never wavers, of course, but he doesn’t seem to be laughing anymore.</p><p> </p><p>I tighten my grip. Time to—</p><p> </p><p>A) Strike again!<br/>
B) Lead Assassin Away!<br/>
C) Go help Caster!</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Status Screen Updated!</p><p><strong>Servant Avenger</strong><br/>Integration Percentage - 35%</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0149"><h2>149. Chapter 149</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>B) Lead Assassin away!</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>I just have to trust Caster. I’ve got to keep Assassin away from his master.</p><p>I study the servant across the alleyway. His stance, as always, can barely be counted as such: if I didn’t know any better, I’d think he was just leaning nonchalantly against the wall. But the stone dagger in his hands speaks otherwise.</p><p> </p><p>“...Are you waiting for me?” he asks. “Because you—”</p><p> </p><p>–––I lunge forward, blade outstretched. He parries with the dagger, dancing to the left—but as he does so I spin the flat of the sabre underneath his parry and pull upwards, neatly slicing the sleeve of his jacket but narrowly missing the flesh underneath.</p><p> </p><p>Then the motion is over, and I’m standing against the wall, Assassin a few paces away down the alleyway.</p><p>“Do you ever shut up?” I ask, panting slightly, as I drop back into my stance.</p><p> </p><p>Assassin starts to laugh. “Now that’s more like it!” he says, twirling his stone in his hands, and I realize that, maybe, he doesn’t even have a stance at all.</p><p>I can’t help but grin a little myself. After all, one careful strike pushed him that far down the alleyway. Away from Caster. This might not be all that hard....</p><p>And I lunge again–––</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>-----------------------------------<br/>Interlude<br/>-----------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>It doesn’t take long to find her. She had hung back, on the street in front of the shops, away from the sound of stone on steel, aimlessly wandering the empty streets. Caster stands on the low rooftops, invisibly watching the young woman.</p><p>She seems... changed, since the first time they met. Her self-confident air, the glamorous clothes, the poise, all diminished. Worn out. Faded. Her coat, though expensive, is plain, her hair straight and unkempt, and she clutches something under her arm—a leather-bound tome, which to Caster’s eyes seems to radiate an aura of power...</p><p> </p><p>––Despite her mission, Caster cannot help but feel pity for this young woman.</p><p> </p><p>She drops to the street level, silent as a breeze, and approaches this tired girl. There’s no sense of malice in her movement—a careful, quiet approach. She drops her enchantment, watching the girl’s back as she stares listlessly down the road.</p><p> </p><p>“That book,” she asks, quietly, “is what binds you to Assassin, is it not?”</p><p>Samantha doesn’t even turn. But her silence is enough of an answer.</p><p>“...I will not harm you,” Caster says, “if you give it to me.”</p><p>“Go to hell.”</p><p>“We have no reason to fight.”</p><p>A short, hollow laugh. “Fuck you.”</p><p>“...” How does one reply to such a sentiment?</p><p>“Do you... do you have any idea,” Samantha says, slowly, her resolve beginning to break, “what it’s like? To watch someone... to see the only one you think of as family be murdered in front of you? Do you?”</p><p>“...I do,” Caster says levelly, after a moment. “I know all too well.”</p><p>“Would you just... give yourself up to the ones who did it?”</p><p>“...No, I would not.”</p><p>“Then you understand. Good.”</p><p>The two stand there, in silence, for a moment, the only sound a faint breeze and the distant sounds of combat.</p><p> </p><p>–––Then, their battle is decided.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>Parry. Riposte. My blade scores a slice from Assassin’s shoulder as I push him back through the alleyway and my own shoulder screams in harsh pain for a moment. But I’m numb to it, now, and it is only an instant before it is covered. Strips of black cloth bind wounds all over my body. Assassin has yet to strike himself, yet its as if every blow I land returns to me many times over.</p><p> </p><p>“Still not tired out?” Assassin himself is wounded, now, scores of narrow cuts all over his body, but he seems entirely unconcerned by the streaks of blood which stain his torn clothes. “Tenacious. I like that. But can you outlast me? I doubt it. Nothing else has! Ever!”</p><p>“First time for everything,” I call out, as I feint to the left and try to cut out his arm, a tendril of black attempting to trip him, but he leaps backwards in time to avoid both blows.</p><p> </p><p>“I know!” he yells. “That was me!”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>----------------------------------<br/>Interlude<br/>----------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>“...I am sorry,” Caster says, holding the book carefully in one hand, its protective spells rendered dormant under her watchful care.</p><p>Samantha is slumped against a storefront window. She’s sobbing, quietly, staring down at the ground beneath her feet. Bruised, but otherwise unharmed.</p><p>“In other circumstances... no. We do what we must for the ones we care about. No matter what the cost.” Her words are harsh, but her tone is gentle.</p><p> </p><p>“Just... kill...” Samantha chokes out.</p><p>Caster shakes her head sadly. “I am sorry if this is further punishment, but I will not kill you. Only remove your threat. Vengeance is... a sorry sort of end for one's self.”</p><p> </p><p>–––She outstretches her hands, and the book floats upwards before her, and as her staff flashes to life in her hands she swings—</p><p> </p><p>--------------------------------------</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>In a rush I force Assassin out of the alleyway and into the deserted street. His leap carries him across, landing with a clunk of denting metal on the hood of a parked car.</p><p>“How long are we going to keep doing this?” he yells across to me, as I step out onto the street. “Because I—”</p><p> </p><p>–––Suddenly, he stops talking, his head snapping to the right, off in the direction we came from. I stop, too, unsure about this new change in behavior. He’s silent for a moment, then–––</p><p> </p><p>“Hm. Crafty little bitch, isn’t she?” He hops down off of the car hood.</p><p> </p><p>My heart leaps. Caster must have succeeded! ––But my excitement begins to wane as Assassin remains standing before me.</p><p>So instead, I just nod, hiding my disappointment.</p><p>“Why, thank you. I do make such an effort,” a familiar voice says, and Caster herself pops into view around the corner of the street.</p><p>Assassin chuckles. “I always aim to please. Shame I’ve never been rewarded for it.”</p><p> </p><p>He starts to move again, and I tense, but he merely starts to turn and walk off down the street.</p><p>“Where do you think you’re going?” I call after him.</p><p>He sighs. “Master said, take care of the girl, don’t let anything happen to her. He’s such a damn hermit, never wants to go out and do anything himself. So if I lost the girl, I have to go back and report.” He kicks some trash off the street. “Damn! Right when things get interesting. As usual.”</p><p> </p><p>“And you are just going to abandon her?” Caster has moved up beside me.</p><p>Assassin shrugs. “Am I my master’s keeper?” he replies mockingly, and, still smiling, gives a clipped wave before he leaps down the road faster than my eyes can follow and disappears.</p><p> </p><p>I start to follow, but Caster puts a hand on my arm, shaking her head. “We will not catch him. Not like this... you’re wounded.” She begins to examine the black wrappings on my arms, a worried look on her face.</p><p>I chuckle weakly. “Just a little. The grail-whatever kept me going, though.”</p><p>“That is what I am afraid of...” Caster shakes her head. “We can worry about that later.”</p><p>“Yeah...” I stare off down the road where Assassin left. Something about what he said there... “So, um, did you—”</p><p>Caster shakes her head. “She is alive. Assassin was bound to her through a proxy that had been given to her. I merely destroyed it, and changed his bond back to his previous master.” She looks a little sad as she says it.</p><p>I nod, relief washing through me. “Good. Then—”</p><p> </p><p>A) We need to keep moving.<br/>B) We should check on Samantha before we leave.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Status Screen Updated!</p><p><strong>Servant Avenger</strong><br/>Integration Percentage - 40%</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0150"><h2>150. Chapter 150</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>B) Check on Samantha.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>“...Let’s make sure she’s alright.”</p><p>Claire frowns at me.</p><p>“Hey, just trust me. We might be able to get some information about the Compact out of her, right?”</p><p> </p><p>She sighs. “I suppose you are right.”</p><p> </p><p>I follow Caster around the streetcorner to where she left Samantha. We can see her as we approach the storefront, sitting hunched over against the wall, staring at the ground, motionless, defeated. We approach slowly, but for no real purpose—she doesn’t even react to our approach.</p><p> </p><p>“...Hey.” I’m not sure how to go about this, really.</p><p>She doesn’t respond.</p><p>“We need to... talk.”</p><p>Silence–––No, not just silence. From this close, I can’t even see her move...</p><p>I bend over her. “...Samantha?”</p><p>No response.</p><p>Caster kneels next to her, placing a hand on her forehead and pushing it up. There’s no resistance. She’s limp. He skin is pale, and all I see is the whites of her eyes––</p><p> </p><p>“...She’s dead, isn’t she,” I say hollowly.</p><p> </p><p>Caster just stares at her for a moment.</p><p>“I-I swear to you, Will, this was not my doing.” She presses her hand to Samantha’s forehead again, closing her eyes. A faint glow envelops her, spreading down her hand but ceasing against the cold skin of the body.</p><p>She curses, some word I do not understand, and shakes her head. “I should have anticipated this. Just a simple curse...”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“The book was cursed,” Caster says, looking down at Samantha. “To ensure her loyalty, most likely. When it was taken from her... it must have triggered.”</p><p>I don’t have anything to say. Caster carefully pulls the body away from the wall, laying her out on her back, and reaches up and closes her eyes with one hand as she gets to her feet. She lets out a sad sigh, shaking her head.</p><p> </p><p>I put my hand on her shoulder. She nods. “I know. It would be unwise to linger here.”</p><p> </p><p>---------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>We decide to head towards the industrial district and the meeting place—neither of us really wanted to spend any more time wandering around after what just happened.</p><p> </p><p>We call it the industrial district, but it’s not really all that industrial—its a throwback to before St. Martin's became a popular school and the city was smaller, when manufacturing plants were just about the only source of income around. They’re all closed now, of course, replaced mostly with warehouses and imposing, utilitarian office buildings of technology companies that didn’t want to spend the money for more high-class office space elsewhere. Unlike the commercial district, it’s still pretty busy—there’s always construction going on around here. We weave our way through construction sites and alleyways, avoiding the main streets, until we get to the address specified by Archer—a large, nondescript warehouse near the newer developed areas of the district. It’s not a short walk, but it’s not like we’re in a very big city, so we’re still there long before we’re supposed to meet everyone else.</p><p>The doors are locked, of course, but that hardly matters. Caster and I let ourselves in to the dusty, dry gloom inside. A wide expanse of concrete with absolutely nothing in it, save a few shafts of light piercing down from the small windows set high in the ceiling, and a raised platform near the back which seems to contain an office. With no other real option, we head across the space towards it, climbing rickety metal stairs and entering.</p><p>Inside, after we find the light-switch, is a small, spartan office. Two desks sit facing the windows, with small wheeling chairs in front of them, framed by rows of filing cabinets. A small, dusty old couch sits along the back wall.</p><p> </p><p>––––I slump down on the couch as soon as we enter, disturbing a cloud of dust that has me coughing for a moment. The walk here seemed much more draining than it should have—probably a result of the fight, although I hate to admit it.</p><p>Caster notices immediately, of course. “How are you feeling?” she asks?</p><p>No sense lying to her. She’d know. “Pretty exhausted, really. I just need to rest a bit, maybe eat a little something.” My stomach growls in protest, and I remember that I haven’t actually eaten anything since the morning.</p><p>Caster nods. “I will find you something, then. You should recover quickly, thanks to Avenger, but for the moment you should just rest.”</p><p>“Alright... just be careful.”</p><p>She smiles. “Of course. I will return as quickly as I can.” She makes her way back out the door, closing it behind her and leaving me alone in this rather sad little office. I look around—the sole decorations are a ragged looking plastic fern and one of those cheesy motivational posters framed on the wall between the windows. I shudder. Glad I’m not actually working here.</p><p> </p><p>I lean back on the couch and put my arms behind my head. Caster said to rest, but despite my tiredness I still feel restless. I think I’ll—</p><p>A) Take her advice and rest here.<br/>B) Take a look around the warehouse.<br/>C) Scope out the building we’re attacking tonight.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0151"><h2>151. Chapter 151</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>B) Take a look around the warehouse.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>I can’t just lie here, even if I am still healing. I’ll just... walk it off or something.</p><p> </p><p>The interior of the warehouse, as I saw before, is mostly empty, save for some dust-covered moving equipment left parked haphazardly around the dark expanse. I wander around, leaving trails of footprints in the layers of dust which covers everything. There’s not much to look at, but just wandering seems to help my brain work...</p><p> </p><p>This whole mess is... well, it’s a lot to wrap my head around. Thinking back and trying to analyze everything that’s happened so far would do me no good at this point, would it? I have goals now, after all—</p><p>—Kill Assassin,</p><p>—Find his master and beat the truth out of him,</p><p>—And get Caster the Grail.</p><p>Seems pretty self-explanatory to me. Second guessing my motivations at this point... well, it seems a bit late for that, looking down at my torn-up body.</p><p>So, what else is there to cover? This could be the last moment to myself I get, after all...</p><p> </p><p>–––It’s odd, though. Try as I might my mind keeps flashing back to what just happened an hour or so ago. ...Who is that guy?</p><p>Well, hold on a minute. This isn’t unsolvable. I am a historian—well, I will be eventually. It seems like forever since I thought about that sort of thing beyond ‘figuring out who the next guy trying to kill me is,’ but I guess that’s still useful.</p><p> </p><p>–––So, lets analyze this. What do we know?</p><p> </p><p>What was it he said that one time? He admitted to not having being an Assassin. “More of a murderer,” I believe was his words. So, famous killers, not famous Assassins.... but he said “older” too, so that should throw out anyone that came after the Hashishin, which puts us at the Crusades and earlier...</p><p>So straight history won’t help me. Think mythical. Think biblical. He’s not Roman or Greek, I don’t think, and he doesn’t look Asian so that writes out Chinese or Japanese legends...</p><p>So even further back? What all is left? Sumerian? Mesopotamian? He’s vaguely Indo-European, I guess. It would explain how untraceable he is ethnically, if he was from that far back, but that doesn’t narrow it down...</p><p>Alright, step back a minute. Let’s look at Noble Phantasms. As far as I know, he has to have at least one—that stone dagger of his. But I’m convinced he’s got another one. Every time I struck him... there’s no way he was counterattacking. He’d have to be striking too fast for me to see, and while that wouldn’t have surprised me before, with Avenger’s help there shouldn’t be a Servant I can’t at least sort of track. Which means something is... returning my damage to me, or something.</p><p>...That must be it. It would explain what happened to Saber, as well. He struck Assassin’s arm, and then his own arm...</p><p>My mind flits back again, to just an hour before. There was something about the way he said that last line—</p><p> </p><p>––––”Am I my master’s keeper?”</p><p> </p><p>—that seemed...</p><p>...Oh God.</p><p> </p><p>We are screwed.</p><p> </p><p>-----------</p><p> </p><p>Caster returns to find me laying on my back on the terrible musty couch in the office, arm over my eyes.</p><p>“I have returned,” she says lightly as she enters, slowing as she notices my current state. “I was a bit unsure of what to get, so I brought a few things... is something the matter?”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s Cain.”</p><p> </p><p>“...Excuse me?”</p><p>“Assassin. He’s Cain.”</p><p> </p><p>Caster frowns. “...Are you certain?”</p><p>I nod. “Cain was cursed by God, right?”</p><p>“To wander the earth forever, yes. And that any harm done to him would be returned sevenfold...” I can see the realization dawning on her face.</p><p>“Yeah. We knew he was a broken version of the class, right? They changed ‘assassin’ to just ‘killer.’ And who fits that better than the first person to kill another human being?”</p><p> </p><p>“...Gods. How do we fight that?” Caster takes a seat on the edge of the couch beside me.</p><p>“I dunno... I mean, we know we can hurt him, even though he heals quickly. I managed to hold up against him, I could probably—”</p><p>“Will!” Caster shakes her head. “You would be torn to pieces before you could do enough damage to kill him. Seven times over, remember? Even Avenger could not bring you back.”</p><p>“...Well, we have our own Noble Phantasms, don’t we? From all the Servants in this game. We have to have something that we could use...”</p><p> </p><p>–––I sense something, suddenly—someone is entering the warehouse. Caster looks up, but I wave her down. “It’s just Saber and Claire. I can tell. Grail thing.”</p><p> </p><p>She nods, then frowns. “...Should we tell them?”</p><p>“Tell them what?”</p><p>“About... Cain. Right away, I mean. This complicates our plans considerably, and we don’t want to cause undue panic.”</p><p>“Well, we should—”</p><p> </p><p>A) Tell them now. We can keep discussing ways to fight him.<br/>
B) Wait until everyone is here. Caster’s right—better to drop it on everyone at once.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Status Screen Updated!</p><p><strong>Servant Assassin</strong><br/>Master-????<br/>True Name- Cain<br/>Sex- Male<br/>Alignment- Chaotic Evil</p><p>Strength- C<br/>Endurance- B<br/>Agility- A<br/>Magic- B<br/>Luck- F<br/>Noble Phantasm- EX+</p><p>Class Abilities-<br/>Presence Concealment: B. Assassin are able to conceal their Servant aura. However, as a corrupt version of the class, his aura still appears strange to a trained observer even when active, as the class skill cannot completely hide his nature.</p><p> </p><p>Skills:<br/>Divine Language: Although his magical skill is limited, Assassin can speak in the First Tongue well enough to dispel complex magic.</p><p>Noble Phantasms:</p><p>Mark of Cain—The ultimate Curse, placed by YHWH himself. Cain does not age, cannot be wounded by any non-magical source, and heals all wounds almost instantly. Any damage done to Cain is instantly returned sevenfold to its dealer—and this damage ignores all magical defenses.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0152"><h2>152. Chapter 152</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>A) Tell them now.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>“...No, we need to tell them. Of everyone, Claire is probably the one who knows the most about this stuff.” Caster shoots me a lock, and I hastily reply, “Well, besides you and I. You know what I mean. If we can come up with anything before the rest get here, things will be easier.”</p><p>Caster sighs. “I suppose you are right. Here they come, either way.”</p><p>We hear the clanking of footsteps up the stairs and the door swings open to reveal, of course, Claire. Saber materializes next to her as soon as she steps inside, and she closes the door behind her.</p><p> </p><p>“You two are here ear—” She notices my torn clothes and black wrappings and frowns. “...You couldn’t stay out of trouble today, could you?”</p><p>I scratch the back of my head. “We, um, had a little run in on our way through town. And you’re probably not going to like what we found...”</p><p> </p><p>-----------------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>––––Claire actually takes the news better than I expected.</p><p> </p><p>“Cain, huh? I guess that explains a lot.”</p><p>“But he’s going to be a pain to defeat. How are we supposed to defeat him, without losing multiple servants in the process?”</p><p>Claire frowns. “...Well, as much as I hate to say it, that’s not inherently a problem. Since they’ve just been pulled back out of the grail, Saber and Archer are kind of... expendable. No offense, Saber.”</p><p>“None taken.” Saber sits on one of the desks, leaning back against the wall. “If I can slay that... thing, it would be worth dying a third time.”</p><p>“We cannot be sure that that would be enough, though,” says Caster. “Even if Saber and Archer were to... exhaust themselves, it could still all be for naught. And I will not gamble Will’s life on that sort of chance.”</p><p>Claire shoots Caster a look. “Of course, of course. That’s why our best bet would be to simply kill his Master as quickly as possible. Which should probably be your job.”</p><p>Caster nods. “...I have been considering the same. He must be a magus, but even as a Dead Apostle he should not be able to stand up to my magecraft. But I am loath to leave my Master’s side, even for a plan such as this.”</p><p> </p><p>“Anyways, we can talk more about that sort of thing once the rest arrive,” I say. “Archer will probably have something specific in mind already.”</p><p>Claire nods. “Lets concentrate on talking about what we know, and what we have at our disposal, then.”</p><p> </p><p>Caster taps her finger on the couch beside her. “One servant, two, shall we say, dark servants, one magus, and the Grail. Not terrible odds, but given what we’re up against...”</p><p>“Don’t forget Archer’s Noble Phantasm. They aren’t all that powerful, but they’re easily expendable. And we have that spear, too.” Claire turns to me. “Could you pull out another Servant, if we needed to?”</p><p>“...I’m not sure, to be honest,” I reply. “I’d have to be able to convince them to help us.”</p><p>“And it would further weaken him. Given his current wounds and the upcoming battle, I cannot support such a move,” Caster adds.</p><p>“Well then unless we have a better idea, either sacrificing what ‘dark servants’ we have, or just hoping we can kill the master first are our only options here.”</p><p> </p><p>–––I think back over our options. Claire makes a good point—we really do need to make a decision here. I think I’d—</p><p> </p><p>A) Try to overpower Assassin with Archer and Saber, or even some other servants.<br/>B) Keep Assassin busy while someone else kills his Master<br/>C) There’s got to be another way....</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0153"><h2>153. Chapter 153</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>C) There’s got to be another way...</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>...Maybe I do know another way. Only one way to find out.</p><p> </p><p>I close my eyes and focus myself inwards and–––</p><p> </p><p>---------------------------------------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>I’m standing in the dark again, the usual pedestal in front of me. There’s just one card there—it seems to know exactly what I’m thinking, now.</p><p>I pick up the card labeled ‘Lancer’ and the black dissolves around me, reforming into–––</p><p> </p><p>–––A dusty hillside. The sunset (or sunrise?) behind it paints the brown earth a crimson red. The curved horizon is broken by only two things: a lone, armored figure, and a row of wooden crosses, set into the earth.</p><p> </p><p>“Longinus,” I say. “You’re Longinus.”</p><p>He doesn’t reply. Just looks at me evenly. His weapon is missing.</p><p>“I know. I won’t try to convince you of anything.” I turn and walk back the way I came. “I just had to make sure.”</p><p> </p><p>He doesn’t reply, and then</p><p> </p><p>-----------------------------------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>–––––open them again.</p><p> </p><p>“Maybe we can use that lance?” I say.</p><p> </p><p>“What?” Claire and Caster turn to look at me</p><p> </p><p>“That Lance. It’s the Lance of Longinus. That’s got to be able to do something, right?”</p><p>“...That would explain why you and your servants can’t touch it,” Claire says, after a moment.</p><p>Caster’s face darkens. “Are you sure?”</p><p>“Almost certain. Do you think it could help?”</p><p>“I am certain it would kill him, but there’s no guarantee that you wouldn’t still be destroyed by his curse,” she replies.</p><p>“...It’s worth looking into, though,” I say. So it really doesn’t change much of anything. Damn.</p><p>“I guess,” Claire says.</p><p> </p><p>–––I feel something.</p><p> </p><p>“Archer and the rest are almost here,” I say.</p><p> </p><p>After a moment, we hear the sound of the warehouse doors opening echoing down the room. A small group of men file in, followed by a quartet of figures—two short, one tall, and one carrying a long, narrow, and totally non-suspicious cardboard box. It’s them alright.</p><p>The soldiers stay downstairs as the four clank up the rickety staircase into the office where we wait.</p><p> </p><p>“And? And? What happened next!” Anne is saying excitedly as they enter.</p><p>Andy follows. “Well, after we cleaned up the mess that Dave made, Will decided... er, tell you what, I’ll tell you about it later, okay?” Claire is glaring at him from her seat by the desks.</p><p>“Promise?”</p><p>“Promise. Now go on, go find a seat. We’ve got important stuff to talk about now.”</p><p>“Awww...fine.” Anne goes off towards the filing cabinets to sit. Andy leans the box up against a wall and takes a seat next to me on the couch.</p><p>“...I didn’t know you we good with kids,” I say</p><p>Andy shrugs. “Neither did I.”</p><p> </p><p>Archer remains standing by the door. “Is everyone present?”</p><p>I nod. “And we’ve got some more things to worry about...</p><p> </p><p>---------------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>Archer is silent for a moment after we finish recounting everything we’ve discovered since this morning. After a moment, he nods.</p><p>“This changes nothing. Our plan should remain the same.”</p><p>He steps forward.</p><p>“We begin the operation at midnight. My men will surround the building and attempt to force our way in the ground-floor entrances, where we will engage the Compact’s own security forces. This, along with your presence,” he says, looking towards me, “should draw Assassin outside.”</p><p>Caster nods. “Meanwhile, I will be able to work my way inside from above, relatively undetected.”</p><p>“Acceptable.” Archer gives a satisfied nod of his own. “Do not take any unnecessary risks, however. The Chairman is a... difficult man to approach.”</p><p>Claire snorts. “’Man’ is giving him too much credit, at this point. He’s a powerful magus and a Dead Apostle. Don’t take him lightly.”</p><p>“Of course,” Caster replies. “Please do not underestimate me either. Subtlety has always been a... strong suit of mine.”</p><p> </p><p>“What about the lance?” I ask.</p><p>“This ‘Lance’ is a potential boon, but ultimately unnecessary, should the rest of the plan succeed,” Archer says.</p><p>“Still, I’m going to take a look at it,” replies Claire. “It could be useful, even if Andy and I are the only ones who can really touch it.”</p><p>Caster nods. “Let us hope we do not need it...”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>------------------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>We break after a few more minutes. Everyone has a part to play, it seems, but with all of Archer’s men around we really don’t have anything in particular to do, so I’m left hanging around aimlessly. It’s only around 9PM—we have a lot of time to kill.</p><p>Claire left with the Lance a short while ago to look over it somewhere downstairs. Archer is directing his men around, and Andy and the two kids left a bit before everyone else. They’re probably just hanging around outside. Caster excused herself as well, saying she had something to do before we left, and Saber is probably pacing around somewhere waiting for the fight. Right now, I’m the only one left in the main office.</p><p>I should—</p><p> </p><p>A) Go find Caster<br/>B) Go talk to Claire<br/>C) Go talk to Andy<br/>D) Go talk to Archer.<br/>E) Go talk to Saber.</p><p>((Pick any three.))</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0154"><h2>154. Chapter 154</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>E) Go talk to Saber</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>I wander down the stairs out into the warehouse. Down below, a crowd of Archer’s men have gathered, forming a loose circle around... something. There’s a bunch of yelling coming from the center of it, so, curious, I make my way over towards it.</p><p> </p><p>The crowd parts respectfully around me as I approach. As I reach its center—</p><p>“No, no! Put your weight into it, man!”</p><p>I see a black-armored figure in the center, in the process of throwing several soldiers off into the crowd surrounding him.</p><p> </p><p>He laughs. “Better, but still needs work! Come on! Ah, Will!” He spies me standing at the edge of the ring and calls out to me. “Come to try your hand as well?”</p><p> </p><p>“I think I’ll pass,” I say, laughing. “I’m beat up enough already.”</p><p>Saber shrugs. “Your loss. I’ve just been instructing these louts on how a proper warrior carries himself. Isn’t that right, boys?”</p><p>There’s a chorus of good-natured jeering from the assembled men.</p><p> </p><p>Saber laughs, clapping me on the shoulder. “You do what you have to to prepare for tonight. This is just my way of... getting into the right mood.”</p><p>I wonder whether or not he has any other moods, but I can’t help but smile.</p><p>“It’s been a worthy fight to die for. Gods, I already did it once! It’s not every warrior that can count two deaths in battle, save for those who make it to Valhalla, and to Ragnarok.” He cracks a smile. “Maybe we’ll meet up again there someday, eh?”</p><p>I laugh. “I’ll be looking forward to it.”</p><p>He nods. “May the Nornar place that far in the future, then. Tonight, we have a different battle to fight together.”</p><p>“Now,” he says, turning his head back to face the assembled crowd. “Which one of you níðingr want to try next?”</p><p> </p><p>Laughing, I step away. “It’s been good fighting with you, Saber. I don’t know how we’d have gotten here without you.</p><p>“Nonsense,” says Saber, returning to a fighting stance as another group of soldiers advances slowly towards him. “You’re an honorable man, Will. All men die someday, but honorable men live to do great things first.</p><p> </p><p>“––Now strike!”</p><p> </p><p>And the men are upon him, and I leave them to their preparations...</p><p> </p><p>----------------------------</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>C) Go talk to Andy.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>I make my way back towards the main exit, wandering past the rows of leftover packing crates and empty pallets stacked against the wall. As I do so, I hear the sound of voices coming from behind one of the stacks.</p><p>Curious, I move towards the sound of conversation.</p><p> </p><p>–––Andy and Claire are sitting with their backs to me on a nearby pallet, their heads bowed over something, speaking quickly and in hushed tones.</p><p> </p><p>“...Am I interrupting something?” I ask, approaching.</p><p>They both jump a little bit.</p><p>“Ehe... you caught us,” Andy says, scratching the back of his head awkwardly.</p><p>“Ha ha,” Claire deadpans, turning. “Don’t get any funny ideas. We were... conferring about something.”</p><p>“...Like what?” I step closer.</p><p>Claire sighs, and gestures to the pallet in front of them. On closer inspection, the Lance is laid out on top of it, a small red puddle collecting underneath its tip.</p><p>“Yea, it just keeps doing that,” Andy says. “We should probably put, like, a bucket or something underneath it. Might be sacrilegious to just let it fall on the floor like that.”</p><p>“I didn’t think you were religious,” Claire says.</p><p>“I’m not. But if Jesus shows up I don’t want him getting pissed at me, man.”</p><p> </p><p>“Anyways,” Claire continues, “We were discussing how we could possibly use the Lance to our advantage.”</p><p>“...We?” I’m a little shocked. “You and.... Andy?”</p><p>“Hey man, low blow,” Andy says frowning at me. “Claire thinks I could use it.”</p><p> </p><p>“...What.”</p><p> </p><p>“I know it sounds ridiculous,” Claire says, sighing, “but if we want to use it, Andy is about our only choice.”</p><p>She points at the Lance. “This thing is... powerful. The levels of curses and residual mana that have built up on it are just unbelievable. You can’t touch it, and neither can any of the servants you dredged up from the Grail; and wielding it would scramble the magic ability of myself or Caster. Andy is the only logical choice remaining.”</p><p>“But how would he—”</p><p>“It will find its target.” Claire nods, her voice firm. “Longinus wouldn’t have been much of a Lancer if he had a spear that could miss. It doesn’t matter who does it, either. Against someone like Assassin, it will hit its target.”</p><p>I look at Andy, frowning. “Even then, though. If you hit Assassin with it, you’d be torn to freaking pieces, man.”</p><p>Andy smiles. “Not necessarily, man. Claire doesn’t seem to think so.”</p><p>Claire sighs. “The Lance is... barely a weapon anymore. It’s a conceptual weapon of a higher order than I’ve ever seen before. I can’t quite say with a hundred percent certainty, but it would seem to me that the Lance may just... ignore his curse. Possibly even damage the curse itself.”</p><p>“So I’ll be fine,” Andy says.</p><p>“...Andy, you’re not exactly—”</p><p> </p><p>“Will, man.” Andy looks me dead in the eyes, his face suddenly getting serious. “I gotta pull my weight around here too, you know? I got pulled into this, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to just sit out of the end of it. Not when all of you are risking your necks, dude.”</p><p>He looks... serious. Hell, as serious as I’ve ever seen him be.</p><p> </p><p>A) Let him.<br/>
B) Refuse.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Status Screen Updated!</p><p>Noble Phantasm:</p><p>The Spear of Destiny, Lance of Longinus: The very lance which pierced the Lord's side, bathed in his blood. Because of this violation, it ignores the effects of holy or demonic powers.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0155"><h2>155. Chapter 155</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>A) Let him.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>“...Alright, alright.” I say, sighing, a smile on my face. “You talked me into it.”</p><p>“Damn right I did,” he replies, all smiles again as usual. “Just like always. I’ve got your back out there. Just give me a shot at the bastard and I’ll chuck this thing at him.”</p><p>I nod. “Just stay out of trouble otherwise, alright?”</p><p>He laughs. “No problem. I’ll let you be the one to get smacked around, don’t worry.”</p><p>“Bastard,” I’m laughing myself. “In that case....”</p><p> </p><p>----------------------------</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>A) Go find Caster</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Claire, Andy and I confer for awhile about strategy. Finally, we break, Claire going off to speak with Archer about the plan, Andy wandering off to waste time who knows where.</p><p>It’s getting late. Pretty soon, it’ll be time to start moving. So I guess I know where I need to go next....</p><p> </p><p>It’s not hard to find her. Of course, getting to her isn’t easy, but not too difficult for me anymore. A few convenient hops up the side of nearby buildings and I’m on the long, slanted roof of the warehouse.</p><p> </p><p>Caster is seated up near its crest, her staff laid out in front of her, looking up at the sky. The moon is high, a crescent sliver casting a dim silver glow over the grey rooftop.</p><p>She looks over and smiles at me as I approach, taking a seat beside her. “Am I interrupting something?”</p><p>She shakes her head. “Of course not. I was merely... appreciating the quiet before the coming storm.”</p><p>I nod, following her gaze up towards the sky. I hear the sound of her cloak shifting beside me before feeling the warm pressing of her head leaning on my shoulder.</p><p> </p><p>“Is this... really going to be okay?” I ask, breaking the silence after a moment.</p><p>“This?”</p><p>“This... whole plan. It sounds good, but... I don’t know. I don’t want to risk... well, everything. Andy, and Claire, and most of all yo—”</p><p>“Will.” Caster clasps my hand in hers. “Trust me. I... do not like the idea of leaving you unguarded either, but it is what must be done. I trust you to survive... please place the same trust in me.”</p><p>“...Alright,” I say, after a moment, smiling. “Sorry for doubting you.”</p><p>“Oh, I am not offended,” she says, chuckling a little.</p><p>I nod. “We’ll get through this. One way or another. And then...”</p><p>“...Things will work out,” Caster replies firmly. “I would not let them go any other way...”</p><p> </p><p>–––We sit like that in silence for a long while. Very soon, things will become very difficult, but, for now, the choice is a simple one....</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0156"><h2>156. Chapter 156</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>--------------------------------<br/>Interlude<br/>--------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>“They’re coming tonight,” the young man says, striding into the darkened study without knocking. He’s the only one who can, after all.</p><p>The thin, pale figure behind the desk barely stirs, his sickly form outlined by the rising moon filtering through the plate-glass behind him. “You sound sure of this,” he says, his voice steady despite his state.</p><p>“Of course. You may have shut yourself away like this, but I’ve spent the last few ages out there,” he gestures towards the window, “so I think I’m a pretty good judge of people by now.” He is, of course, smiling. “It makes it so much easier to hate them when you know why you should. They’re going to attack us. Probably tonight.”</p><p>“Does it matter? We will proceed just as before.”</p><p>Assassin shrugs. “Just thought I’d let you know. Sheesh, learn to respect your elders one of these centuries, alright?”</p><p>The Chairman chuckles. “Soon that, too, will be unnecessary.”</p><p> </p><p>Assassin is already turning away. “I’ll be waiting for them downstairs. Make sure you keep an eye out too, alright? They’ll probably come for you as well.”</p><p>“I am prepared, as I always am.” He waves a bony hand dismissively. “Let us finish this farce and achieve... our respective goals.”</p><p> </p><p>And Assassin just laughs as he exits, leaving the door open behind him.</p><p> </p><p>The figure in the chair lets out a soft sigh. He’d be annoyed, if he had any feelings left. For now, he thinks, as he spins his chair to view the city below him, there are more important things to attend to.</p><p> </p><p>–––And the door swings shut with a quiet *click.*</p><p> </p><p>--------------------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>One Servant,<br/>Two dark Servants,<br/>One Magi,<br/>A small army of magical soldiers,<br/>An ordinary man with the Lance of Longinus,<br/>And the Holy Grail in human form.</p><p>Versus,</p><p>A vampire,<br/>Undead minions,<br/>Human soldiers,<br/>and Cain.</p><p> </p><p>....Not the worst odds, I think to myself, as we gather up our final supplies in preparation for our assault. But then again, how do you calculate the odds in weird scenarios like this? Seems like the levels of power are so ridiculous that it’s just a weird toss up, like arguing an unstoppable force versus an immovable object. What’s the point?</p><p> </p><p>Archer’s men stand at the ready. There’s around fifty of them—enough to take a building, but not enough to get in each other’s way. The rest of us stand and survey them. Saber is in full armor, his hand hovering around his sword-hilt. Archer has replaced his modern clothes for his tattered cloak and rusty armor, looking every inch the conqueror—well, besides the rifle. Claire and Andy stand to one side, Andy leaning awkwardly on the length of the Lance in the body armor that Archer loaned him.</p><p>Caster stands beside me. She looks at me and nods, reaching back to pull up her cloak. I nod back. My clothes and jacket are still stained and torn, but that’s hardly a problem now—the damage has all been repaired by strips of black cloth.</p><p> </p><p>Archer turns to me, the little remaining conversation in the room dying out. “We are ready to begin the operation. Give the word.”</p><p> </p><p>I nod.</p><p> </p><p>–––“I’m not going to give any kind of speech,” I say over the silence. “It wouldn’t be right. I’m not some kind of general, or warrior, or conqueror. I’m no hero.” I shake my head. “And I don’t want to be. I’m just... taking care of some things, because I’m the only one who can. We’re the only ones who can.</p><p>“We’re all here for our own reasons, but whatever they are, we all have the same job to do. So let’s do it. No apologies, no excuses, no regrets. Just... closure. On this whole mess.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>I give another nod to Archer––</p><p> </p><p>A) “I’ll lead the assault myself.”<br/>B) “Lead the assault. I’ll hold back and search for Assassin.”<br/>C) “Let Saber lead the assault. I’ll hold back and search for Assassin.”<br/>D) “Call off the assault.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p><strong> Status Screen</strong> full display</p><p><strong>Servant Avenger</strong><br/>Master- William Cooper.<br/>True Name- ???<br/>Integration Percentage- 40%<br/>Current Aspect- Rider<br/>Sex- ???<br/>Alignment- ???</p><p>Strength- ??<br/>Endurance- ??<br/>Agility- ??<br/>Magic- ??<br/>Luck- ??<br/>Noble Phantasm: ????</p><p>Class Abilities-<br/>None</p><p>Skills:<br/>Grail Conduit: Avenger has access to an effectively endless font of mana. His power is only limited by his circuit's output.</p><p>Noble Phantasm:<br/>The Grail Simulacrum-- The Lesser Grail of the 6th Heaven's Feel. This grants Avenger both limitless mana and access to all things currently contained within the grail itself.</p><p> </p><p><strong>Servant Caster</strong><br/>Master- William Cooper.<br/>True Name- Morgan Le Fay<br/>Sex- Female<br/>Alignment- Neutral</p><p>Strength- C<br/>Endurance- D<br/>Agility- A<br/>Mana- A+<br/>Luck- C<br/>Noble Phantasm: B</p><p>Class Abilities:<br/>Territory Creation: EX. Casters can create a magical workspace for themselves.</p><p>Magical Item Creation: C</p><p>Skills:<br/>High Speed Divine Language: Through her time spent in Arcadia, Caster is as much a fey as she is human. Because of this, the Fey taught Caster to speak the language of magic itself.</p><p>Fey’s illusion: Caster is a master of illusion, having made contracts with the fey themselves. Her illusions are “illusions of the world” rather than “illusions of the mind”-- they are palpable to any who do not have sufficient magical resistance, and cannot be simply banished by willpower.</p><p>Infernal and Elemental Contracts: Having made contracts with powerful demons and elementals in the past, Caster can call upon their powers for aid in emergencies.</p><p>Mystic Eyes of Suggestion: Although low-ranking mystic eyes, Caster is adept at using them to hypnotize the unwitting. They have little combat effectiveness, however.</p><p>Noble Phantasm(s):<br/>The Timeless Isle, Avalon- Morgan Le Fay is the chief of the sisters who rule the Isle of Apples, an island of realty which exists somewhere outside of time. She may enter and exit her kingdom as she pleases, and bring others with her provided they either consent to entry or are unconscious. She can also force areas of normal reality into her realm, provided she has achieved magical domination of the area beforehand.</p><p>As the Isle contains a bit of Arcadia within itself, the illusions of the Fey take on a much more substantial existence within its bounds; this combined with Caster’s complete domination of the territory brings her “Fey’s Illusion” skill to the level of a Marble Phantasm.</p><p>The Isle protects those who enter its borders with the consent of its Mistress. The Isle’s power heals all wounds of those who enter under Morgan’s protection, even those caused by magical means (although those take a considerably greater time to heal.)</p><p>Bercilak de Hautdesert, The Green Knight- A knight rescued by Morgan le Fay in exchange for his servitude against Arthur’s court. Although only an ordinary spirit, his powers are augmented by Caster’s own, allowing him to ignore and eventually heal any wound. Currently resides within Avalon; due to his magically-extended lifespan, he can no longer leave its bounds.</p><p> </p><p><strong>Servant Assassin</strong><br/>Master- "The Chairman"<br/>True Name- Cain<br/>Sex- Male<br/>Alignment- Chaotic Evil</p><p>Strength- C<br/>Endurance- B<br/>Agility- A<br/>Magic- B<br/>Luck- F<br/>Noble Phantasm- EX+</p><p>Class Abilities-<br/>Presence Concealment: B. Assassin are able to conceal their Servant aura. However, as a corrupt version of the class, his aura still appears strange to a trained observer even when active, as the class skill cannot completely hide his nature.</p><p> </p><p>Skills:<br/>Divine Language: Although his magical skill is limited, Assassin can speak in the First Tongue well enough to dispel complex magic.</p><p>Noble Phantasms:</p><p>Mark of Cain—The ultimate Curse, placed by YHWH himself. Cain does not age, cannot be wounded by any non-magical source, and heals all wounds almost instantly. Any damage done to Cain is instantly returned sevenfold to its dealer—and this damage ignores all magical defenses.</p><p> </p><p><strong>Servant Saber Alter</strong><br/>Master- William Cooper<br/>True Name- Sigurd<br/>Sex- Male<br/>Alignment- Neutral Good</p><p>Strength- A+<br/>Endurance- B<br/>Agility- D<br/>Mana- D<br/>Luck- C<br/>Noble Phantasm: A+</p><p>Class Abilities-<br/>Magic Resistance: A</p><p>Riding: C</p><p>Skills:<br/>Currently Unknown.</p><p>Noble Phantasms:<br/>The Sword of Reforged Wrath, Gram—Saber’s blade, which was said to have cut through the very anvil it was hammered upon. Unlike many Noble swords, it does not allow Saber to focus his mana through it to increase his strength, forcing the weirder to rely on his own skill to strike. However, its cutting ability is unmatched, allowing it to cleave through any physical and most magical forms, including other Noble Phantasms.</p><p>When its true form is revealed, it appears to glow red, as the edge severs the bonds of molecules in the air.</p><p>Fafnir's Blood—Bathing in the blood of the dragon Fafnir has granted Sigurd almost total invulnerability on his entire body—except for one shoulder, on which a leaf fell. On all but that spot he is immune to any attacks below A rank, regardless of type.</p><p> </p><p><strong>Servant Archer Alter</strong><br/>Master- William Cooper<br/>True Name- Ghengis Khan<br/>Sex- Male<br/>Alignment- Neutral Good</p><p>Strength- D<br/>Endurance- C<br/>Agility- A+<br/>Magic- C<br/>Luck- A<br/>Noble Phantasm: A</p><p> </p><p>Class Abilities-<br/>Independent Action: B</p><p>Magic Resistance: D</p><p>Skills:<br/>Ride: A- Although Archers usually don’t ride, Khan is a special case as a primarily mounted archer.</p><p>Adaptability: A+ - Khan has a gift for understanding new weapons and technology and their potential tactical use. He and all me working under him can use any weapon with full proficiency (counts as A rank) and all</p><p>Charisma A</p><p>Noble Phantasms:</p><p>The Golden Horde: The men of Khan’s horde followed him even unto death. Khan’s army is summoned with him, obeys his command (and his master’s) without question, and shares any and all proficiencies with Khan instantly (any weapon Khan can use, they can use, including guns using the Treasure of the Khan.)</p><p>The Treasure of the Khan: Archer can access his treasury through the use of a symbolic key. By sacrificing portions of his treasure, which includes powerful magical artifacts, he can use them as ammunition which does noble-phantasm level damage.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>Servant Rider-- DEFEATED</strong>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <strong>Servant Berserker-- DEFEATED</strong>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <strong>Servant Lancer-- DEFEATED</strong>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0157"><h2>157. Chapter 157</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>B) “Lead the assault. I’ll hold back and search for Assassin.”</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Archer nods, then turns to his men. “The assault has begun. Move into your positions and await my command.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>-------------------------------------------------</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The midnight air is still and cold. The snowclouds which hung overhead have cleared, a half-moon and a thousand stars illuminating the darkened streets.</p><p> </p><p>We’ve surrounded the building. Up close, it’s quite an impressive structure—I remember hearing about it my freshman year, when it was still under construction. They brought in some famous architect from Europe to build it: a tall, narrow building made of metal and glass and stone facade, a strange blending of ultramodern and gothic architecture that, to be honest, looks more like a lair than an office building</p><p> </p><p>––––Had I seen it before now, I would have wondered what kind of company would want that, but, well, now I know.</p><p> </p><p>I move with Archer’s group towards the front lobby, its entrance a wide set of glass doors set within a Gothic arch. We gather up behind a set of moving trucks nearby, crouching down behind what cover we can find. Others have already taken position all around the building. There’s no sign of any security—or Dead—around.</p><p>Caster leans over, pulling her hood back just enough to plant a kiss on my cheek. “I am off,” she says, her voice sounding much brighter than either of us feel. I manage a weak smile as she pulls away, vanishing from sight.</p><p>I hear a low whistle from my other side. Andy is crouching there, the lance out of its box, gripped tightly across his lap.</p><p> </p><p>Finally, Archer barks a quick phrase to the men around him. ––But, instead of moving towards the door, they cluster into a small group, fiddling with something.</p><p>I step over to Archer to ask him what’s going on, when they suddenly stand, revealing a large, tube-like object, painted a dark green and printed with stenciled designations. I look over at Archer, who merely nods at them as they level it towards the door–––</p><p>There’s a flash of light, and a whining noise as its contents streak towards the glass door. They shatter instantly, cascading down in a shimmering cloud as the payload detonates in a blinding flash.</p><p> </p><p>“–––Go,” is all Archer says, and his men are already on the move.</p><p> </p><p>A) Follow them in.<br/>B) Hold back.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0158"><h2>158. Chapter 158</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>B) Hold back.</strong>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>I hold myself back as Archer’s men rush the door, scanning the lobby as the smoke and glass clears for any sign of my target. Almost immediately I hear the sound of gunfire from inside, muzzle flashes betraying some kind of firefight between Archer’s men and whatever security the Compact has. Judging from the sounds, its pretty serious.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>There’s a crash from inside, and a group of men come flying out of the clearing smoke, landing with a wet thump in the snow-like drifts of fallen glass outside. Blood seeps from their bodies, staining it red.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>–––I tighten my grip on my saber. This is it. It has to be him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>There’s a roar, and Assassin bursts through the now-open front gate, barreling out towards our hiding place. There’s no point in hiding anymore. I step out to meet him as his huge form bears down on me, claws outstretched—</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It is at that moment that I realize that it’s not Assassin.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>––––It’s a bear!</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>I leap to the side, awkwardly parrying its claws, my saber awkward in my hands. Assassin roars again, swiping at me. I try to call out for Andy, but my voice comes out as a garbled grunting noise, my snout garbling the words as I realize that I am also a bear! Letting out a triumphant roar, I drop my useless saber and charge––––</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strong> BEAR END</strong>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>-------------------------------------------------</p>
<p> </p>
<p>I jerk awake, blinking in surprise. Panicked, I look down at my hands.</p>
<p>...They’re normal hands. Thank god. I reach up to touch my face, just to make sure, and I’m relieved to not feel a snout or fur.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What in the world...” I say to myself, looking down at the desk beneath me. How did I get here this time–––</p>
<p>“Sorry about that,” Caster says, walking into the classroom. “Doink was tired today and thought that an April Fools joke was in order. Although I can’t say it was all that amusing.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“––––What, you don’t like stories with bear endings?” Andy says from the desk beside me, stretching. “It could have been worse. He could have had Will end up in Bel-Air.” He chuckles. “See what I did there?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Can we just get on with this?” Claire says, sighing.</p>
<p>“Oh, I could not agree with you more,” Caster says, tapping her ruler against a desk impatiently. “But Doink probably won’t update for real until tomorrow. You’ll just have to wait until then.”</p>
<p>Andy flops back in his chair. “Laaaaaame.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Caster sighs. “Well, anyways, I’ll send you back now.”</p>
<p>I nod, beginning to feel the usual falling sensation as this pocket world dissolves around me......</p>
<p> </p>
<p>”Anyways, have a happy April Fools day... is that how you wish it? Do you? This era has such strange holidays...”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>In the original publication, this was the April Fool's joke for 2011. I would've just overlooked it, but I just so happened to be publishing it right next to April 1st, 2020, so...</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0159"><h2>159. Chapter 159</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>------------------------------------<br/>Interlude<br/>------------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>She touches down against the roof with only the slightest of sounds. An island of slate-grey concrete in the midst of an ocean of black, illuminated in harsh relief by the moon hanging high overhead, casting long dark shadows in the silvery light.</p><p> </p><p>–––But she, of course, casts no shadow at all.</p><p> </p><p>A few light steps over to the access door, and she hesitates. A tap of a staff against its metal frame reveals she was right to wait—a faint outline emerges, spidery squared lines of glowing light revealing the presence of a quite powerful magical barrier.</p><p>She speaks softly to herself, her staff planted firmly against the ground centered on the doorframe. Twisting, spiraling lines of faint green begin to emanate from it, crawling along the ground like plant growth towards the barrier. It makes contact, and for a split second it appears as though the barrier will trigger—but instead, the green light worms its way into the shining grid, and within a minute has taken root all inside its form, stretching its formerly perfect geometric shapes into strange new forms, all bent away from this particular entrance</p><p> </p><p>She smiles, stepping up to the door and swinging it open with ease—they didn’t even bother with a mechanical lock!</p><p> </p><p>Inside is a dark hallway, as gray as the outside. Likely, only maintenance workers ever come to this floor—it seems completely deserted. She passes through it quickly, a specter, not even disturbing the thick dust which seems to cover everything.</p><p>At the end of the hallway is a set of metal doors. Elevators—although from the looks of them, these are only service elevators. There’s an emergency stairwell next to them.</p><p> </p><p>A) Take the stairs.<br/>B) Take the elevators.<br/>C) Use the elevator shaft.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0160"><h2>160. Chapter 160</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>C) Use the elevator shaft.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>The woman in gray studies the doors for a moment, then raises an arm, speaking a syllable and causing the door to slide silently open to reveal an empty elevator shaft. She steps over the edge and into the air, floating slowly downwards, her cloak billowed out around her like raven’s wings, slowing her descent.</p><p> </p><p>––––She always was one for grand entrances, after all.</p><p> </p><p>The elevator itself waits several floors down—it looks like the bottom of this elevator shaft is still relatively high in the building. Odd. A tap on the door and it slides open soundlessly, and she exits.</p><p> </p><p>The corridor here is more ‘finished’ than upstairs—there are lights, although only emergency lighting is currently on, and a cursory amount of furnishing—but it has the same ‘unused’ feel as the rooms upstairs. A thick layer of dust covers just about everything, a trail of footprints along the floor the only thing that betrays any presence at all. Whoever left them must be the only people to ever come up here.</p><p> </p><p>She shakes her head. This is unimportant. Concentrate on finding Assassin’s master. This... Chairman.</p><p>She concentrates. She can feel the ebb and flow of magical energy around her, the massive barrier which encloses this entire space pulsing around her. All she must do is follow it to its source.... three floors below...</p><p> </p><p>--------------------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>B) Hold back</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>I motion to Andy to hold as Archer and his men move into the building, scanning the lobby as the smoke and glass clears for any sign of my target. Almost immediately I hear the sound of gunfire from inside, muzzle flashes betraying some kind of firefight between Archer’s men and whatever security the Compact has. Judging from the sounds, its pretty serious.</p><p> </p><p>We wait, crouched behind cover, as the smoke clears away, the deafening staccato of gunshots echoing out of the lobby. It’s moving inwards, though—Archer and his men are winning!</p><p> </p><p>–––But there’s still no sign of Assassin. He has to be nearby. But where?</p><p> </p><p>A) Follow Archer’s men inside.<br/>B) Keep waiting.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0161"><h2>161. Chapter 161</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>---------------------------------<br/>Interlude<br/>---------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>The other elevators are only a short distance away, down another dust-covered hallway. She passes through like a shadow, leaving no footprints, disturbing only the motes hanging in the air as she silently slides open the door and descends the open shaft like before, falling slowly down the last distance to come out level with the source of the energy sustaining this barrier.</p><p> </p><p>–––Here, though, something gives her pause.</p><p> </p><p>This door is protected by a different sort of barrier—not a simple defensive or alarm barrier like before, but a powerful, unusual spacial barrier. She frowns as she inspects it from a distance, unwilling to breach it just yet...</p><p>It appears simple, but it betrays an underlying complexity far too great to work around. She will either have to breach it by force, and alert whatever lies inside, or attempt to unravel it—but then, she’s never seen a barrier quite like this before...</p><p> </p><p>A) Break through<br/>B) Attempt to dispel it.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0162"><h2>162. Chapter 162</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>B) Attempt to dispel it.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>She bites her lip pensively. –––There is little time, but to properly dispel a barrier of this unusual complexity...</p><p>She sets to work as quickly as she can, her magic worming its way into the shifting patterns of the barrier. At first, it seems surprisingly easy. Bits and pieces unravel around her carefully woven counterspell.</p><p> </p><p>––––But something’s not right.</p><p> </p><p>It’s not unravelling at all, is it? The bits which seemed almost to move aside as her counterspell worked its way in have begun to take shape again, twisting in to strange patterns alongside her work, mimicking it––</p><p> </p><p>––––It’s almost as if its... adapting to her.</p><p> </p><p>By the time she realizes it, it’s already too late. As she pulls away, the barrier wraps itself around her—and within a moment, the elevator shaft is empty</p><p> </p><p>------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>B) Hold back</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>I force myself to remain still. I can’t rush this. I can feel the adrenaline pumping through my veins as the sounds of gunfire inside continue, moving steadily further inside the building, the occasional flash from a darkened window my only way of tracking their progress inside.</p><p>Andy frowns beside me. “...Should we, like, move in or something?”</p><p>“Not yet.” I shake my head. “Assassin should have showed up by now. He must be planning something...”</p><p> </p><p>A sudden movement near the door causes me to tense, but I relax as I see one of Archer’s soldiers move carefully out the broken doorframe and jog over to where we wait. He snaps his fist to his chest in a quick salute.</p><p>“First floor secure,” he says. “Security appears to have retreated to the higher floors. No sign of any servants.”</p><p>I nod slowly. This isn’t good. We had hoped to bait Assassin out, but if they decide to play defensive and hole up in the upper floors...</p><p> </p><p>–––Which is where Caster is headed...</p><p> </p><p>I can feel a weight pressing down on my gut at this realization, but I suppress it as best I can. “Alright––”</p><p> </p><p>A) Keep pushing upwards.<br/>B) Hold them upstairs.<br/>C) Let Archer decide.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0163"><h2>163. Chapter 163</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>---------------------------------<br/>Interlude<br/>---------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>The air is dry and dank. It smells of decay, of desiccation. The only light is dim and grey, filtering down from high above her head.</p><p> </p><p>––––She is standing in... a library?</p><p> </p><p>Shelves surround her, stretching high towards the grey ceiling, filled with musty tomes rotting in their places, their spines unreadable, crumbling in the moistureless air. She turns—there is no exit behind her. Only more shelving.</p><p> </p><p>The robed woman bites her lip. He would try some form of illusion on her?</p><p>–––No. She brushes a hand against the bookshelf, feeling the worn, dry wood beneath her fingertips. This is no illusion. She of all people would be able to tell. This is all... real, at least in some fashion.</p><p> </p><p>But then... what is this place? Inside of the barrier?</p><p> </p><p>She looks around her for... anything. Then, without warning, a path opens up ahead. She frowns. Was the path always there, and she merely did not notice? Or did the bookshelves shift position when she was not watching?</p><p>She grips her staff tighter in her hand, steeling her resolve as she peers down the path. It seems to lead further in to the center of the library, curving slightly so as to make seeing its destination impossible.</p><p>She makes up her mind. She will—</p><p> </p><p>A) Take the path<br/>B) Take a different route.<br/>C) Remain and search for an exit.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0164"><h2>164. Chapter 164</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>C) Let Archer decide</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>“—Take me inside. I need to speak with Archer.”</p><p>He nods wordlessly and turns, heading quickly back towards the door. Andy and I follow expectantly, treading as carefully as we can over glass shards carpeting the floor of the entryway as he leads us inside the cavernous entrance hall.</p><p> </p><p>Archer is standing near the rear, by the entrance to an emergency stairwell. The elevators seem to have been taken off-line.</p><p>He gives me a polite nod as I approach. “With your permission,” he says, businesslike as always, “We would continue to press our way upwards. There is no sense in letting off our assault at this point, especially if we wish to draw forces away from up above. We can only hope to force Assassin’s hand.”</p><p> </p><p>I nod in agreement. “It’s your call. Then I’ll—”</p><p> </p><p>A) Press forward with them.<br/>B) Remain in the rear.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0165"><h2>165. Chapter 165</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>---------------------------------<br/>Interlude<br/>---------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>A) Take the path</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>There doesn’t seem to be much choice. Gripping her staff tightly, she begins to make her way through the floating motes of dust towards the center of the strange room.</p><p> </p><p>The air is still and quiet. The only sound is her muffled footsteps and the swish of her cloak against the dust-covered floor.</p><p>She walks for some time. The gently curving path leads on and on, seemingly endless identical rows of books branching off in either direction. She dares not exit this path down any other aisle yet—the shelves loom over claustrophobic paths, gloomy and narrow.</p><p> </p><p>–––––––Then, she sees footprints</p><p> </p><p>A moment of surprise, and she grits her teeth.</p><p>They’re her footprints.</p><p> </p><p>How foolish, she chastises herself. She’s been led around in a circle.</p><p> </p><p>She concentrates, trying to expand her awareness to detect whatever force is manipulating this space, but it’s... difficult. Something is... pressing against her attempts, forcing her magical senses back down into her body, preventing her from getting any sort of impression.</p><p>She frowns, frustration beginning to turn to anger. There is no time to waste on these silly games–––</p><p> </p><p>A) Go over the shelves.<br/>B) Try the aisles.<br/>C) Blast her way through.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0166"><h2>166. Chapter 166</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>A) Press forward with them.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>I nod. “Then I’ll join you on the assault. If he isn’t going to come out after us, we just have to go after him.”</p><p> </p><p>“Does... that include me too?” Andy says, swallowing nervously.</p><p>“It’s alright,” I reply. “We won’t be alone. Just hang towards the back.”</p><p>“If you say so, man....” He follows us nervously towards the stairwell, the Lance clutched tightly in his hands.</p><p> </p><p>The stairwell is startlingly utilitarian in comparison to the rest of the building—cinderblock and metal stairs stretching up the entire height of the building, it looks like. Archer and I lead a small group up two flights before Archer motions at a particular door.</p><p>One of his soldiers enters first, checking the door. He gives the all clear, and we file inside.</p><p>The room is wide and empty and low-ceilinged, the kind of room you’d expect to find a cubicle farm in, except this one is empty of cubicles. Or, well, anything, for that matter. Just a big, empty room with some things that look like offices around the edge, and big plate-glass window on the far side.</p><p>“...Are all the floors like this?”</p><p>Archer nods. “We are working our way upwards, but... it seems that most of these floors were unused. Everyone must have retreated higher into the building.”</p><p>“So we don’t know where they are...” I muse, as a group of soldiers checks all the side offices, but finds them empty.</p><p> </p><p>Archer motions the group back towards the stairwell and we follow. I open the heavy fire door and––</p><p>Footsteps. There are footsteps, echoing down the cinderblock column of the stairwell from somewhere above, although I can’t tell how close.</p><p> </p><p>A) Have everyone remain silent and wait.<br/>B) Call out.<br/>C) Meet it/them on the stairs.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0167"><h2>167. Chapter 167</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>---------------------------<br/>Interlude<br/>---------------------------</p><p>
  <strong>C) Blast her way through</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>She grits her teeth. She will not be toyed with. Not like this.</p><p> </p><p>She focuses, mana and prana filling her magic circuits. It's more difficult here, within the barrier, but for a magus of her caliber such things are merely an annoyance. She speaks the words of the most ancient tongue, her mouth releasing a string of indecipherable syllables that speak to the core of the universe itself, bending it to her will...</p><p> </p><p>There's a blinding flash. A huge arc of harsh white light explodes from her staff, crackling with power, the bookshelves before her incinerating instantly upon contact, cutting a circular swath through row after row of book towards what she thinks is the center of the 'library'. What remains of the shelves smoke, the edges charred and cooling from red-hot embers.</p><p> </p><p>Caster begins to walk through this new path she's created, her staff still at the ready, prepared for a second volley.</p><p> </p><p>—Without warning, there is a voice. It seems to emerge from the very shelves surrounding her, low and dry and without any sign of emotion.</p><p> </p><p>“...It appears you have given up on subtlety,” it says.</p><p> </p><p>“I do not like to waste time,” she replies, still striding towards the center.</p><p>“A pity. You are using up what little time you have remaining.”</p><p>“How... arrogant of you,” Caster replies with mock-sweetness.</p><p>“I have no delusions of the sort. I am merely stating fact. Your master cannot defeat my servant, and you cannot defeat me here. One of you will fall, sooner or later. Most likely your master—I believe I will not even have to engage you at all.”</p><p>“Your beliefs are no concern of mine,” she says dismissively. Her eyes are closed, her senses tuned, listening to the disembodied voice. Although the sound seems to come from everywhere, the source of the sound... it's faint, but she can feel it, at the center of all this. Not the geographical center—geography means little in this space, it seems—but the conceptual...</p><p> </p><p>It's there, just beyond the edges of this looped space. She could pick her way through it carefully, if she could keep him talking... or just tear through it with brute force and catch him by surprise...</p><p> </p><p>A) Pass through carefully<br/>B) Tear through and surprise him.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0168"><h2>168. Chapter 168</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>C) Meet it on the stairs.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>...That's enough. I'm tired of these stupid games.</p><p>It only takes an instant for the black miasma to appear around my feet, and another for a bundle of black tendrils to unravel from within, streaking up the stairwell ahead of me as I launch myself forward up the stairs. I hear Andy say something in surprise, but the rest seem to have caught the same thing I did, and are already getting into position as I move.</p><p>There's a shearing pain as I feel a tendril cleaved from me, but I ignore it, two more immediately taking its place as I race upwards.</p><p> </p><p>—It has to be him. There's no-one else who can cut me like that.</p><p> </p><p>-------------------------------<br/>Interlude<br/>-------------------------------</p><p>
  <strong>A) Pass through carefully.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>“—If you are so confident, then why do you hide yourself away in this... hole of yours.”</p><p> </p><p>Caster speaks with a disinterested air, but her mind is focused. Anyone watching her would merely see a robed woman standing still against a row of bookshelves, eyes shut—but her mind is racing, manipulating, slowly picking apart this pocket-world around her as she works her way towards its “center,” and the being who resides there.</p><p>“I do not hide,” the dry voice says. “I exist. This is my realm; I have no other.”</p><p>“What a dreary existence that must be.” She's starting to get the hang of it. Only a little bit further...</p><p>“It is sufficient for my purposes. A reflection of the nature of my self, I believe. It is functional. I require nothing more.”</p><p>“Functional? Towards what purpose?”</p><p>A short chuckle. “I have no need to inform you of my purposes, only of what you must do to fulfill them.”</p><p> </p><p>—There. The last thread unravels, carefully. It was like no barrier she'd ever seen, but it fell nonetheless. She opens her eyes, smiling ever-so-slightly, and removes a book from the shelf before her. Behind it, she can see into a small room—an office, it seems, with a huge plate-glass window looking out over what appears to be a night-time city skyline. Behind the desk sits... someone, in a high-backed chair, his back to her vantage point.</p><p> </p><p>She frowns. She could attack without warning and have a chance at utterly destroying him—but something about this man makes her want to find out more...</p><p> </p><p>A) Burst through and destroy him.<br/>B) Keep him talking.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0169"><h2>169. Chapter 169</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>A) Burst through and destroy him.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>——For the first time since she entered this space, she begins to smile—slight, but her eyes glow with a particular sort of malice...</p><p>Her strike is almost instant. Her lips move as she utters a rapid string of indecipherable syllables, and with a horrific tearing sound the very world before her rips asunder, a torrent of razor-sharp light pouring from behind her through the hole towards the seated figure.</p><p> </p><p>There is a blinding flash, a wave of explosive force rocking backwards, her silver cloak flapping in the blastwave, but she holds firm, staring through the fading light towards her target</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>*CRASH*</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>The figure, chair and all, flies through the plate-glass before him, shards of thick glass raining outwards into the open air—but then, instead of falling, the figure slows to a stop, hovering out over the cityscape. The chair falls away, revealing a startlingly thin figure, his back still to her, utterly motionless in the air.</p><p> </p><p>“Impressive,” the voice says, still seeming to resonate from the very air around her. She notes with some satisfaction that it seems somewhat more... strained than it did before. “But insufficient. My previous estimation has yet to change.”</p><p> </p><p>Caster steps through the rent in space into this 'office'. As she does so, the figure begins to revolve in the air, turning to face the shattered window. It is then, as he finishes, a faint, thin smile across his emaciated features, that she finally sees his face.</p><p> </p><p>Her eyes widen. “You're—“</p><p> </p><p>---------------------------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>I bound up the stairs five or six at a time, tendrils unfurling and racing up before me even as they are cut down far ahead, melting back into the nothingness they emerged from.</p><p> </p><p>—I'm close. So close. He's up there, and all I have to do is reach him, distract him, give Andy a chance...</p><p> </p><p>I'm so close I can feel him, now, just around the bend of some stairs. It's time—</p><p> </p><p>A) Round the stairs and attack head-on—no sense messing around.<br/>B) Break through the stairs themselves—that'll catch him off guard.<br/>C) Keep sending tendrils to try to overwhelm—give the others a chance to catch up.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0170"><h2>170. Chapter 170</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>B) Break through the stairs</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>–––No sense being subtle, I guess.</p><p> </p><p>I don’t even have to think about it anymore. I drop to a crouch. Muscles tense, contract, energy building up in my circuits, pooling around my feet in a dark pool of smoking shadow before I launch myself upwards, tendrils whipping around my body as my saber slices a clean arc through the concrete stairs above me. My shoulder impacts a second later, blow softened by layers of black shroud which form instantly, the force of my upward momentum causing the concrete to buckle and crumble.</p><p> </p><p>My momentum carries me further upward through the falling debris. As I rise I can see Assassin, spinning in the air, righting himself, ready to catch on the stairwell below, a trickle of blood running down a cut in his shirt. —I haven’t defeated him, but, for just a moment, I can see a look of surprise on his face.</p><p> </p><p>It passes almost instantly, however, as he catches himself on the stairs below and launches himself up to meet me, black stone dagger flashing into his hands again as he hurtles up towards me.</p><p> </p><p>––––All of this happens in less than a moment. I prepare to catch myself on the underside of the stairs still above me, arresting my forward momentum, turning, preparing myself to parry his strike...</p><p> </p><p>-----------------------------<br/>Interlude<br/>-----------------------------</p><p> </p><p>“No. I am not.” The Chairman laughs, a hollow, dry chuckle, devoid of any real mirth. “If only things were so simple.”</p><p> </p><p>“Then who do you claim to be?” she asks, still uncertain. His features are gaunt, all trace of life gone from them, but the lines of his face, the shape of his features...</p><p>“Consider me a... distant relative. Far distant. I have, as you can see, maintained some interest in the family’s fortunes, but I have my own goals, and they have theirs. It was a fortunate coincidence that they had so recently coincided.</p><p> </p><p>“No, I am merely an observer, although not the classical sort. I am the observer who, through the act of observation, effects the system which he observes.”</p><p> </p><p>“What you are,” replies Caster, “is full of shit.”</p><p>The laugh again. “Perhaps you are correct. It is unimportant. What is, is that this is the end result of a plan which has been in motion for a very, very long time—although I suppose it is still young in comparison with your era, you have not had to live through the entirety of its length.”</p><p>“To achieve the Grail? Surely there must be a simpler method of achieving whatever it is you wish to achieve, unless it is at the level of true Magic.”</p><p> </p><p>He grins, his grin lacking the same degree of emotion as his laugh. “—I will reach the completed False Grail, ascend to the world of pure Form, and leave this pathetic world of flesh behind.”</p><p> </p><p>“...Akasha.”</p><p>“Is it not the goal of every Magus? To achieve oneness with the Origin of all being?</p><p>“––And your Servant?”</p><p>“Oh, he has his own goals...”</p><p> </p><p>--------------------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>–––I’m not prepared for the ferocity of Assassin’s attack. He lashes out with more strength than I expect, and though I parry his dagger the sheer force of his momentum is transferred to me and I fly backwards.</p><p> </p><p>There’s a resounding crash. Glass shatters, raining out into the open air as I fly out away from the building itself, fifteen-some stories above the street.</p><p> </p><p>I grit my teeth. This is nothing. I right myself in the air. I’m not falling. Wide flat tendrils extend from the air to arrest my fall, giving me a solid platform in mid-air.</p><p> </p><p>I can only stand still for a moment before I see my opponent flying through the newly destroyed window towards me—</p><p> </p><p>A) Drop to ground level.<br/>B) Parry and keep him airborne.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0171"><h2>171. Chapter 171</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>---------------------------------<br/>Interlude<br/>---------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>“...He is even more of an... unconventional servant than yourself, you know.” The Chairman hovers slowly back towards the broken window into his office.</p><p>Caster holds her ground just inside. Her lips move wordlessly for a moment, preparing her defenses and counter-barriers, but she refrains from striking first. “Oh?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes. I found him long before this Heaven’s Feel began.” That chuckle again. “Where else could he go? The Curse placed upon him, eons ago, prevents him even the escape of death. But I gave him a certain.... opportunity.”</p><p> </p><p>---------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>B) Parry and keep him airborne</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>–––You know, five minutes ago I didn’t know I could do what I just did. But then, I stopped being bothered by that sort of thing around the time I started sprouting black tentacles, so at this point it barely registers with me as more than a new tactical choice.</p><p> </p><p>I parry his blow, turning his stone dagger to the side and stepping out of the way, letting his momentum continue to carry him forward past me. Which he does, obviously not expecting me to be still in mid-air.</p><p> </p><p>He twists his body around as he passes, laughing as he flies on to land with crunch of concrete against the roof of another building nearby. “Now that’s a nice trick!” he yells up at me. I’m tired of listening to him. I’m not going to be goaded. I remain where I am, knowing full well that I’m not out of his reach...</p><p> </p><p>---------------------------------<br/>Interlude<br/>---------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>“Surely you cannot be serious,” Caster says, half mocking, half disbelieving.</p><p> </p><p>“I am never not serious,” the Chairman replies, his tone almost as mocking. “His curse binds him to walk the earth until the End of Days. With the Grail under his possession, he could quite easily bring that about much earlier than originally intended.”</p><p> </p><p>“He intends to... end the world? And this does not... bother you?”</p><p> </p><p>He shrugs. “It is none of my concern. I shall already have left this plane behind. What happens here afterward is meaningless.”</p><p> </p><p>Her expression hardens. “Then I suppose,” she says, magic circuits silently flaring up with power as her prepared magecraft begins to activate, “that this conversation is as well.”</p><p>“Indeed,” he says, arriving back through the broken window. Behind him, shards of glass begin to fly back into position, slowly repairing the plate glass, cracks disappearing as if they were never present.</p><p> </p><p>–––How? She thinks. This was no magecraft. Surely she would have detected him using a mending spell. It would have had to be from his crest, there’s no possible way he could speak the True Speech, and even then she would have felt him expend prana.</p><p> </p><p>Unless...</p><p> </p><p>She feels the impact against her barrier before she can even react, leaping to the side as it shatters under the immense unseen force which was bearing down on her, space itself warping in ways that would daze a weaker mind, skidding to a stop on the other side of the room, one thought on her mind as she prepared her counterattack</p><p> </p><p>––––––<em>She was still inside his barrier!</em></p><p> </p><p>-----------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>I grit my teeth as I deflect another assault. Assassin can’t remain airborne for long, but his speed is still much faster than anything I can reach, forcing me to study his motions carefully to determine from which direction his next leaping strike will come from, as he uses the surrounding buildings as springboards for his attacks. Windows shatter as he passes, a dark blur against the darker concrete and glass.</p><p> </p><p>“Come on, are you slowing down already? Have you run out of little tricks? Avenger isn’t everything you thought?” His laughter echoes around the darkened streets, circling me like a speedy predator slowly wearing down his prey.</p><p> </p><p>–––If he would just shut up this would be a lot simpler.</p><p> </p><p>“I mean, we could just wait until your girlfriend dies, if you want. I’m sure you’ll be able to tell.” That laugh again. “Oh, won’t that be cute. You’ll just get enough time to feel crushed before the grail kills you anyways. I can’t wait to see it—”</p><p> </p><p>I hold my tongue. I know he’s baiting me, but our battle has reached a stalemate. I—I have to trust that Caster can handle Assassin’s master. I think—no, I know she can do it, but can I keep just deflecting Assassin for long enough? Is it enough to just keep him occupied? Should I watch for an opening and attack, or merely keep stringing him along, and hope I can keep his attention?</p><p> </p><p>A) Watch for an opening and attack.<br/>B) Keep stringing him along defensively.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Status Screen Updated!</p><p><strong>Servant Avenger</strong><br/>Integration Percentage: 46%</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0172"><h2>172. Chapter 172</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>---------------------------------<br/>Interlude<br/>---------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>“You see?” He says, smiling, as his gaunt form floats above the immaculately clean floor. “I have no need to leave this space, until I succeed and render it unnecessary. Here, I have total control. It is the only place I can be.”</p><p>Caster's only response is a flurry of words in the Old Speech, drawing on reserves of Prana she had not touched in years to hurl bolt after bolt of pure, crackling arcane energy towards him.</p><p>But as they reach him, the bolts seem to twist in the air, contorting in strange ways that hurt her eyes just to watch before continuing their flight in completely different directions, searing holes into the shelf-lined walls of the 'office' that promptly begin to repair themselves as soon as they are formed.</p><p> </p><p>Caster grits her teeth. She was careless. She knows that, within this space, she cannot defeat him. Her own powers are weakened here, her access to mana restricted by the unnatural laws of this space. It must be... it could only be a form of Marble Phantasm, she realizes. If he is a Dead Apostle, there can be no other explanation.</p><p> </p><p>——But how can she get out of it?</p><p> </p><p>She feels the imperceptible twinge of his power in the air, throwing up a barrier just barely in time to deflect another assault, warped space arcing down towards her like a blade. She stumbles backwards, her most powerful defenses only barely holding back this absolute assault. She has to find a way out. A weak point. The place where the barrier containing this separate space connects to the real world—</p><p> </p><p>She throws herself to the side again, tumbling headlong over the huge glass-paneled desk as its desktop shatters into a million shards, all of them turning in mid-air to lance towards her, shredding the corners of her cloak as she falls over the back edge, knocking over the high-backed chair behind it as she catches herself by the window.</p><p> </p><p>——And then, suddenly, she has it. The faintest of feelings. An almost imperceptible note at the edge of even her finely-honed magical senses.</p><p> </p><p>There are few things in the world that can truly sever the bond between Servant and Master. Especially when that bond is a strong one. And, even with its absolute area control, a Marble Phantasm such as this is not one of them. She can feel it, now. That lifeline. That connection, feeding her Mana even when trapped inside this separate space. She can feel him there, on the other side, and that circuit is feeding into this place through its source.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Which is located in that chair!</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Caster cannot help but smile as the realization hits her. She knows what she has to do. The Chairman's assault falters for a moment. He, too, seems to understand what she knows.</p><p>She only has one shot at this. As her opponent readies his greatest assault, she makes her move—</p><p> </p><p>A) Attack the source all-out before he strikes!<br/>B) Feint, then counterattack!</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0173"><h2>173. Chapter 173</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>A) Attack the source all-out!</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>It all happens within an instant. Caster's circuits flare, burning white-hot down her spine, straining to barely contain all the mana she can possibly draw in. She has made her decision.</p><p> </p><p>———This chair, she decides, is an eyesore.</p><p> </p><p>Her lips move, yelling a short, simple phrase in the tongue of the Gods themselves. The Chairman's eyes widen as the crackling arcane energies she has summoned begin to take shape in the half-second before it could manifest, and she can feel the space around her begin to warp, closing in on her, threatening to crush her utterly, but she holds her ground.</p><p> </p><p>She speaks a final word as the very air itself constricts her.</p><p> </p><p>There is a glint of flame, just over the fallen chair,</p><p> </p><p>———And then a single, burning shaft of light erupts from the floor beneath them. It engulfs the chair, then the desk, unfolding outwards with increasing speed as the very world around them begins to collapse—</p><p> </p><p>---------------------------------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>B) Keep stringing him along defensively.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Watch.</p><p>Parry.</p><p>Riposte.</p><p>Watch.</p><p>Parry.</p><p>Riposte.</p><p> </p><p>——It's a seemingly endless battle. Even with the high ground, I can't seem to get the advantage over Assassin. I parry every time he launches up towards me, but even a perfect counterattack gains me no ground. My arms and chest burn from the exertion, and the multitude of wounds, covered by black cloth, from where my strikes on him have landed.</p><p> </p><p>“Are we done yet?” Assassin calls out from a nearby rooftop. Though his smile has never slipped, he's started to almost sound... bored. “You know you can't keep this up forever.”</p><p>“I don't have to,” I yell back. “Just longer than you!” But I'm bluffing. I'm starting to flag, now. I can feel Avenger's circuits burning in my nerves, their corruption spreading further the more I'm forced to draw on them...</p><p>He laughs. “Sorry, but I think I've got more experience at that than y—</p><p> </p><p>——And then, just as he begins to leap, Assassin hesitates.</p><p> </p><p>It's subtle, at first. Had I not been watching his every move, I probably wouldn't have even noticed. His normally perfect movements falter, slightly. For just a moment, his smile slips, as if, for the first time in a very long time, he was experiencing a moment of... uncertainty.</p><p> </p><p>Could this be it?</p><p> </p><p>A) Give the order to attack!<br/>B) Hold back!</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Status Screen Updated</p><p><strong> Servant Avenger</strong><br/>Integration Percentage - 50%</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0174"><h2>174. Chapter 174</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>B) Hold back!</strong>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>I parry his strike. He lands, stumbling as his feet reconnect with the asphalt. As he turns to face me, I can see a strange, twisted symbol burning white-hot on his forehead, his features twisted in a grimace. It fades away, slowly, leaving only a single icon in its place—I don't know it, but I know what it has to be. A Hebrew letter, etched in scar tissue, in the middle of his forehead.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>——The mark of Cain.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“So he fucked it all up after all,” Assassin says, quietly, his joyful air evaporating, leaving behind only barely restrained murderous intent. He shakes his head. “It's just so hard to get good help these days...”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>His command spell is gone! Caster succeeded! I feel like a huge weight has been lifted off my chest as I realize this—</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strong>*THUMP*</strong>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The platform vanishes beneath me. I start to fall.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strong>*THUMP*</strong>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>This must mean... that the grail is full? That we won? But why is Assassin still...</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strong>*THUMP*</strong>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He grabs me by the front of my jacket and lifts me into the air.</p>
<p>“I guess I don't need him, though, do I? If I break you, all that stuff will come out, right? That might be enough to do it.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>I try to struggle, but my body isn't listening to my brain. I can feel the grail's power building up inside my circuits, but I can't control it anymore. There's too much, too much mana coursing through them, burning into my real flesh, overwhelming my nerves—</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strong>*THUMP*</strong>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Assassin pulls back his free arm, dagger in hand, aimed straight at the center of my chest. He thrusts it forward, and——</p>
<p> </p>
<p>——There is a crunch, followed by the sound of flesh tearing. But... I don't feel any pain.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Instead, I feel myself drop roughly onto the asphalt. Assassin has caught himself several yards away, clutching at his—no, clutching at where his arm used to be.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That,” yells Saber from beside me, his own arm already reduced to a writhing mass of dripping black ichor, “was for last time, you son of a worthless whore!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strong>*THUMP*</strong>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>I push myself slowly to my feet, barely able to control my limbs. It's not just Saber's arm—his whole body is beginning to dissolve, not into golden dust like before but collapsing into the black sludge his new body was formed from.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Assassin grits his teeth, his smile only slipping for an instant. He starts forwards again, but is again stopped in his tracks as Saber leaps forward, sword in his off-hand, striking with incredible force, pushing Assassin back even as his body continues to decay, until Assassin pushes his crumbling form away with a strike—</p>
<p> </p>
<p>I am suddenly deafened by a hail of gunfire from around the square. Bullets strike against his body from all sides. Most don't even scratch his body—but they distract him long enough not to notice the last rocket streaking down from above him. It impacts by his feet, and I'm forced to shade my eyes from the explosion.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>As the smoke clears I see Assassin getting to his feet, unharmed but still stunned from the light and sound. We only have a second left to act.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“ANDY! <em>NOW!</em>” I yell as loud as I can, hoping that he had the same thought as I did——</p>
<p> </p>
<p>———There is no sensation of movement. One moment, everything is still and clear. The next, the Lance has already pierced Assassin's chest, the shaft protruding out his side, the tip embedded in the ground beneath him. There is no sound, no rush of wind, no cry of pain. For just a moment, everything is perfectly still.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Then Assassin falls, his body folding up and hitting the ground with a quiet thump. Slowly, I step over, unsure, not ready to believe... and I see him smile, again, and for a second I'm afraid, but then he laughs, a soft chuckle, not the grating, malicious laughter from before but a low, almost sad sound.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He looks up, and I follow his gaze upwards to where the heavy clouds have parted, just for a second, to show a patch of night sky, and I hear him whisper—</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“...I did it, you old bastard. I w—“</p>
<p> </p>
<p>—and, finally, die.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strong>*THUMP*</strong>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>And then my world goes white.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>---------------------------------<br/>Interlude<br/>---------------------------------</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She brushes the dust off her cloak as she strides towards the door, unwilling to remain in this stagnant place any longer. Behind her, the 'office' lays almost just as she left it, empty and dead, a thick, choking layer of dust covering every surface, the window almost opaque with clinging motes and grime, the shelves empty, the desk bare. The only place it is disturbed is behind that desk, where the high-backed chair, a moment ago rusted uselessness, has been splintered in two, and the desiccated husk which sat in it as well, bits of mummified flesh and bone laying strewn amongst the dust.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>——The only place he could exist. She understood, now, what he meant by that.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She turns one last time as she reaches the doorway... and stops, staring. Out the window, through the haze of grime covering it, she sees a dark patch, far below, an orb of pure darkness spreading slowly but surely outwards.</p>
<p>She doesn't hesitate. She springs out the door, racing has fast as she can towards an exit, any exit. She has to get down there. She has to be there. She has to help him, somehow, she—</p>
<p> </p>
<p>And then, for her too, the world goes white.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>---------------------------------</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strong>And he was also there, waiting inside, waiting as he had for a long time. He was in the grail and of it and from it, but his soul was... something else entirely, now. But now his time, too, had come, to quit the world, and he took it, taking his price with him.</strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>It wasn't much—just a name. But it was enough.<br/></strong>
</p>
<p>---------------------------------</p>
<p> </p>
<p>I'm standing in an endless, empty field.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>I must be... inside myself again. Inside the grail. Only... instead of empty blackness, I see only endless, unchanging white, stretching in all directions, as far as I can see.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>I'm... holding something. I look down, and, cradled in between my hands, is a cup.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>—It's nothing fancy. There aren't any jewels or diamonds on it, and its certainly not made of gold. But its thick, and solid, the kind of cup that would survive years, no, centuries of being filled and emptied without ever wearing out, and it's slowly filling with the clearest, purest water I've ever seen.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“...Will?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Caster is standing before me. I smile at her, holding out the cup. “Hey, look, Caster.” I feel... light. Lighter and freer than I've ever felt before. “Look. We... I think we did it! We won!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Why... is she looking at me like that? She looks... sad. “Will, you're...”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>I follow her eyes down. There's a... hole, there. A hole in the middle of my chest. Small, but slowly growing larger, dissolving as the inside of the cup I'm holding fills.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>I laugh. “Huh... what do you know...” For some reason... I just... can't be bothered by that sort of thing. It seems... unimportant, now.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>——Again, I offer the cup to her. “Here, Caster, take it. We won! You can... you can have your wish now, right? Go ahead.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She looks at me, a deep sadness in her eyes... and then,</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No,” she says.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“...But, Caster, we—“</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She holds up a finger to silence me. “No,” she says again, stepping forward towards me, and the smile on her face is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen before in my life;</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I'll... we'll make our wish.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>And she touches the cup, and our fingers entwine around it, and the entire world dissolves into light...</p>
<p> </p>
<p>--------------------------------------------------</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em><br/>...Then saw they how there hove a dusky barge,<br/>Dark as a funeral scarf from stem to stern,<br/>Beneath them; and descending they were ware<br/>That all the decks were dense with stately forms,<br/>Black-stoled, black-hooded, like a dream--by these<br/>Three Queens with crowns of gold: and from them rose<br/>A cry that shivered to the tingling stars,<br/>And, as it were one voice, an agony<br/>Of lamentation, like a wind that shrills<br/>All night in a waste land, where no one comes,<br/>Or hath come, since the making of the world.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Then murmured Arthur, 'Place me in the barge.'<br/>So to the barge they came. There those three Queens<br/>Put forth their hands, and took the King, and wept.<br/>But she, that rose the tallest of them all<br/>And fairest, laid his head upon her lap,<br/>And loosed the shattered casque, and chafed his hands,<br/>And called him by his name, complaining loud,<br/>And dropping bitter tears against his brow...</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em></em>
</p>
<p>— from "The Passing of Arthur," in The Idylls of the King,<br/>by Alfred, Lord Tennyson.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0175"><h2>175. Chapter 175</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>------------------------------------------------<br/>Epilogue<br/>------------------------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>——I have to stop and stretch as soon as I get out of the rental car.</p><p> </p><p>I've been driving all day, and to be honest I'm not really used to cars. Magi typically avoid that sort of thing, but this little city still doesn't have an airport of its own, and they're the only way to get anywhere in America. So every time I come back here I have to go through this again. I guess I'll get used to it eventually.</p><p>I've parked in a small parking lot on the edge of the city park. I'd already dropped my things off at the hotel I'm staying at, so... I take a deep breath. Time for the first part of this.</p><p> </p><p>A lot of things have changed in the past few years, but it's good to see that the park isn't one of them. The same little brick trails winding their way around through the grass beside the woods and past the pond... At this time of year, of course, it's not particularly crowded, though, so I make my way down the now-familiar path in silence.</p><p>...A lot of things have changed, really. The Mage Association had a fit, of course, after everything related to the “Sixth Heaven's Feel” came out, but of course the Red Witch—excuse me, the Wizard Marshal managed to cover it all up again, so instead of taking the fallout for the whole debacle I was promoted and moved to a magecraft research position out of the Executors. Probably to keep me out of trouble, I know, but I honestly prefer things this way. Less running around the world, more time to concentrate on my work... but, of course, there was a caveat.</p><p> </p><p>——Technically, I'm only checking up on things for the Marshal, but that's a lie. She could do it herself without even half the effort I have to take. But that would make sense, and since when do Magicians every do anything that makes sense, even to Magi? But, then, I suppose it gives me an excuse...</p><p> </p><p>I find the small corner in between two hedges and turn, down the narrow brick path towards what was, back then, our meeting place. The bricks are worn from many feet, but as I near the open area at the end of the trail, they begin to darken in color, almost as if they'd been scorched by a great heat, until I reach the opening itself.</p><p> </p><p>It looks almost the same as it did back then. Of course, we learned afterward that the park was basically owned by the Rensfield group, so they helped make fixing this area easy. The bricks underneath the spot where... where the Grail first awoke are stained jet-black, a jagged, round splotch of ebony in the middle of the weathered brick square, still surrounded by park benches and hidden away by shrubbery. It wouldn't be worth getting rid of them, of course. If you replaced them, you'd find the earth underneath was just as dark, and anything you put on top would have turned the same black within a week. The taint, it seems, is permanent. But other than that, it was exactly the same.</p><p> </p><p>Well, almost. We had contained the spread of the taint, of course, using a seal, and, after discussing it, we decided there was only one appropriate icon for it. So, in the middle of the black brick, now sits a small, tasteful bronze sculpture, set up on a stone pedestal at about waist height. A simple, unadorned goblet, cast in bronze. Unlike the rest of the stone and brick, it still gleamed, as if new. —I'd made sure of that, at least.</p><p> </p><p>In front of it stands a young man, tall, dressed in a business suit. He turns as I approach, and smiles broadly.</p><p>“Hey, Claire,” he says. “Long time no see.”</p><p>“Hello, Andy,” I reply. “A year, as usual.”</p><p>“Yep.” There are already flowers sitting inside the cup. “I brought the twins by earlier, before school.” He chuckles. “Anne always makes me get flowers...”</p><p> </p><p>——Andy had, apparently, done quite well for himself since everything ended. After graduation, he made it to law school, then went straight to work for the Rensfield group, and quickly had become... something important or other. I never quite understood his explanation. Some sort of legal adviser to the twins. It obviously paid quite well, at any rate, and gave him a lot of influence for someone his age, since the twins were still majority shareholders, and seemed to listen to his advice.</p><p> </p><p>I step up to it, chuckling myself. I hadn't brought anything in particular. My gift, as always, was to keep the seal steady. It was, of course, but I stood beside it for a second anyways, fiddling with it, strengthening its boundaries and ensuring that the cup itself stayed preserved. As I look into the inside, I notice one flower that's slightly different than the rest. I reach in to touch it, and realize that it's petals are rigid and sharp, like they're made out of stone, or gems... I can't help but grin a little. Maybe her heart isn't quite as black and cold as I thought.</p><p>Andy waits patiently for me to finish. “Got it fixed up?” he asks, as I step away. I nod. “No problems. It should be good for another year, at least.”</p><p> </p><p>We both stand there in silence, for a moment. Remembering.</p><p>“...It wasn't for very long,” he says, after a moment, “less long for me than any of you, but I still kinda miss those guys. I mean, I guess we all knew they were only here as long as the Grail was, but...”</p><p>I nod. “Saber wasn't she sharpest tool in the shed, but... he was a good man. And Archer ended up being honorable, if nothing else.”</p><p>He smiles. “And Caster?”</p><p>I sigh. “She was... a good Magus.”</p><p>“That's all?”</p><p>I smile. “Between Magi, that's about the highest praise we can give each other.”</p><p>He laughs. “You guys are harsh...”</p><p> </p><p>—He trails off. We're both thinking about the same thing, of course.</p><p> </p><p>I shake my head. “It's just a shame that he...”</p><p>“That he what?” Andy gives me a funny look.</p><p>“That he didn't make it. It was too much for him, after all...”</p><p> </p><p>“—Oh, I dunno about that.” Andy has a far-away look in his eye, for a moment. “That guy, he could talk his way out of absolutely anything. He grins to himself. “I bet you he could find some way out of this one. Especially if he really did get a wish.”</p><p> </p><p>“I suppose we'll never know,” I reply. But somehow, his words give me a little bit of hope...</p><p> </p><p>“So, um.” Andy clears his throat. “You're staying in town tonight, right? Because I know of a really nice Italian place downtown...”</p><p>I sigh. “You're really going to ask me every time I come here, aren't you?”</p><p>He grins. “I only get one shot a year. It'd be a waste not to, right?”</p><p> </p><p>I take one last look towards the sculpture. It's also a simulacrum of a grail, I realize, though one much less dangerous or magical than the other one I knew. But it's no replacement.</p><p> </p><p>“...Fine. If only to make you look less pitiful,” I reply, smiling at him.</p><p>“Wait, really? Great! Alright, follow me then, I'll show you how to get there...” I can almost hear the celebration in his head. It's almost cute, I think, as I follow him down the trail away from the clearing, taking one last look back behind me before turning the corner and losing sight of it.</p><p>We've got to remember the past, I know, but that doesn't mean we should stop moving on towards... whatever happens to come next. I think that's how he did it, after all, and I think I'm starting to understand it myself...</p><p> </p><p>------------------------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <em>——And, somewhere long and far away, a traveler rests beneath a tree, in the forest which borders an endless field of green.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>His clothes and pack are covered in the dust of many mile's journey, his hair tinged with gray, and the cast of his features mark him as from some distant land. He rests, sleeping the restless sleep of one who does not know how long he has left to journey.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“—Hey,” a voice says.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>The traveler starts, eyes snapping open, hands moving as if reaching for a weapon... and then stops. Standing before him is a young man, dressed plainly, and smiling pleasantly down at him.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Relax,” he says. “I just want to talk a moment. We don't get many visitors around here, you know?”</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>The traveler nods slowly, relaxing a little, but remaining silent. He isn't old, but his features have an aged look to them, as one who has endured many things, and spoken of only a few.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“So, what brings you here? Not to pry, but this isn't really the kind of place you can just stumble into, you know?”</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>The traveler hesitates. When he speaks, it's with the deliberateness of one who rarely speaks the language, or even speaks at all.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“...I am... not sure. I was... looking for something,” he says, slowly.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>The young man nods. “That's a start. A lot of things end up here, eventually. Though they're usually pretty important.”</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“She... is,” he says simply.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>He nods. “I'm sure she is.”</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>The pair study each other for a moment. We really are from 'different worlds,' the young man thinks to himself, but... for a moment, he thinks he understands him. And that's enough.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Well,” says the young man brightly, “I won't delay you any longer, then. I just had to make sure you were the person I thought you were. Not that I could stop you either way.” He chuckles.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>The traveler gives him a puzzled look, and starts to stand, reaching for his pack.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Don't worry about it,” the young man's voice says. “I don't think you'll be walking much further.”</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>The traveler hefts his pack, and turns to respond... but the young man is gone, now, and he is alone in the forest. So, turning back to the trail, he begins to walk, peering down it to where the trees open up and he can see the sky...</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>———And, as the pair embrace under that endless sky, the Master and Mistress of this timeless place stand watch, in silence, by the edge of the wood.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>He turns to her, after a moment, and smiles, and says, “Feel better now?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And she smiles at him as well, and says, contentedly, “Yes.”</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>And then they turn, and, arm in arm, vanish back into their forest.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>———<strong>Fin.</strong></em>
</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>